The Coming Challenge
by jade51999
Summary: ‘The Coming Challenge’ is the final chapter in my trilogy, following 'To Honor the Dead' and 'Changing of the Guard.' Longer Summary inside. YJK III through NJO. Complete.
1. Introduction, YJK Arc III Book 1 Summary

**Title: **The Coming Challenge

**Time Period:**  
Part I: During the Young Jedi Knights Third Arc (_Return to Ord Mantell, Trouble on Cloud City, Crisis on Crystal Reef_)

Part II: Pre-NJO through to end of _The Unifying Force_, Although this section is mostly a whirlwind through the war, to finish up some loose threads and frankly write some scenes that I wanted to see during the NJO...bringing the story firmly to a close.

**Genre:** Drama, Romance, Angst...I'm not so sure that I've got a lot of humor in this one...

**Summary:** The third section in my never-ending journey to write Mara's story of where she was during most of the YJK storyline. This third installment takes place after 'To Honor the Dead' and 'Changing of the Guard' which take place during Arc 1 and Arc 2 of the YJK Stories and begins after the events of _The Emperor's Plague._ Meanwhile, after the events of 'Changing of the Guard' Tristan Romani begins his own journey to find and kill Iker Rafagr (really Nom Anor, but no one but the reader knows that yet). Upon reaching Thyferria he is grief stricken and bitter following the destruction and manipulation of Valdet/Danshitie by Iker and the death of his beloved wife, Elbereth Dono Morodin-Romani.

With Elbereth's and now Tristan's loyal bodyguard Nestor Alluvia, Tristan finds himself finally taking the steps necessary to achieve inner peace.

Meanwhile, in Part I: Mara Jade-Skywalker receives a message from the Force sending her to Valdet to unravel a mystery finally bring the Valdet/Danshitie conflict to a close. This journey allows her to finally achieve the confidence and mastery over her past and the Force.

As mentioned above, Part II is a whirlwind tour through the NJO, and is meant to see pivotal events of the war from the point of view of civilians, those watching hero's from a far, but still very, very much effected by the invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong.

**Characters:** The YJK Gang from Arc III, Han/Leia, Borsk Fey'lya, Mara/Luke, Tristan Romani, Nestor Alluvia.

Introducing: Keladry Stanton, and lots of other people.

**Notes:** Ha! So when I put up the Notes for 'Changing of the Guard' I said that it was the longest story that I had written so far. I lied, now **this** is the longest story I have ever written. Finding that much of what I had written could still, in theory, work within the 'official' EU timeline, I decided to keep it that way trying to be as accurate as possible to keep with the continuity.

Also, as with the two prequels, I will provide brief summaries of the three YJK books. I'm not sure what I will do with the NJO, those of you who have read the books should be ok, and if you haven't I've tried to structure it in a manner that won't be too confusing. The story still works without having read them...(but be warned there are spoilers.)

Unlike the other two stories, there isn't a lot of YJK specific action, just some hole-plugging. But those sections that I do use information or do a perspective change, a la M. Stackpole's _I,Jedi, _(or just give you part of the book) I will give the proper citations so that you are aware of what is my writing and what is not my writing. That being said, we must remember that the Star Wars Galaxy is not mine, and the situations and characters are the property of Lucasbooks, and the SW world. I will always give credit where credit is due, so with each post, as mentioned if necessary there will be note if its one of the aforementioned sections.

In order to understand the events of my OC's I would recommend reading both stories from before, also on want to give a shout out to my beta's, **Kags** and **Ylesly** who kindly volunteered upon my request on TF.N.

Also thanks to my former beta **-Trickster-** who allowed me to borrow a name...:)

Thanks for reading..  
Jade

**Young Jedi Knights Arc 3: Black Sun Trilogy**

**Kevin J. Anderson and Rebeca Moesta  
Return to Ord Mantell**

In an opening speech of the book, Luke Skywalker states: "Challenges and diversity make us strong. Too much protection can prevent us from learning, from reaching our potential. We can learn from others, but we must also learn from our own experiences...and our own mistakes." (13)

This book, this series is about that challenge and bridging that gap. The book opens with Han Solo taking his children on a Trip to Ord Mantell, where he has been asked to be the Grand Marshal for the Blockade Runner's Derby. Jaina takes the ship down and we see lots of interaction between Han and the kids, and upon landing we are introduced to Czethros an old bounty hunter turned good (or so we think) of Han. Czethros is now a legitimate businessman on Ord Mantell.

This trip is hit with a few incidents. First, as the pace craft the _Falcon_ encounters a few problems when there are random mines within the path of the race. Then, to the twins surprise, the ship that wins the derby is none other than the _Rock Dragon_ Tenel Ka's ship, piloted by Zekk. The trio had entered at the last minute as a surprise. After the race the group is attacked by wraith-like creatures trying to steal the mines (evidence from the earlier accident) and they are aided by a twenty-something year old woman who is, to the YJK's surprise carrying her own lightsaber. Her name is Anja Gallandro, the daughter of an old smuggling partner of Han's who died when he tried to double cross the team. Anja got the story wrong and believes that Han killed her father, and is determined to use his children to make him pay.  
Left an orphan on war-torn Anobis she resents the New Republic for not helping her planet, still fighting between descendants of those supporting the empire and those supporting the rebellion. She taunts Han and them into going and helping the planet. In affect she is setting him up for Czethros and the Black Sun. She does what he wants with Han Solo and his family (because he sees Han as a threat to his operation), and the Black Sun provides her with spice to feed her addiction (and the opportunity to discredit the man she thinks murdered her father.) Her slight madness and bizarre energy has left an impression on the young men (Zekk and Jacen) and together the YJK, Han, Anakin, accompanied by Kyp Durron and Zekk go to Anobis to help the planet.

While there, Han gains a measure of respect from Anja when he deals with some smugglers shipping arms, and then after a large battle between the two groups (one where Anja clearly has her own agenda –and watches it backfire killing someone on her side) the Jedi Knights are able to convince the group into a cease fire. They help both sides unearth and remove the mines that prevent either side from living a decent life. Because Zekk and Jacen are slightly enamored with her, Jacen invites her to Yavin 4 to see if she has potential—an action that does not go unnoticed by Jaina and Tenel Ka. There is clearly something larger going on...


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

**Zonama**** Sekot**

**During the Aftermath of the Defeat of the Yuuzhan Vong.**

They were not alone.

On Zonama Sekot, one was never really alone.

Mara Jade-Skywalker sat against a rock in a small clearing and looked down at her son who, at the present time, was playing with his father's face. At nearly three years old Ben Skywalker was perfectly content smooshing Luke's cheeks together in a valiant attempt wake him up; something that didn't seem to be working despite his rudimentary Force instincts telling him that he had.

Mara reached out in front of her and brushed away some grass that had found its way onto her husband's hair"There's no fooling him Luke, he knows you're awake."

_Quiet Jade_.

Mara looked again at her babbling child and smirked. "Ben" his blue eyes locked with hers"Let's wake up daddy." Leaning forward she grasped his small fingers in her own hand and softly placed it on Luke's abdomen"The best way to wake up daddy, is to tickle him." No sooner had she put her hand on his stomach then a strong grip grasped her wrist. Glancing up she saw that Luke's farm boy eyes were open, staring at her with a look of mock betrayal.

"Nice try" he mouthed.

Mara ruefully smiled as he released her hand and directed his attention to the toddler on his stomach. "And you, Ben Skywalker are very strong in the Force, but you should remember that I can tickle too." Ben's happy shriek could be heard far into the forest as he giggled and squirmed in an effort to remove himself from his father's traitorous fingers.

Luke was still playing with Ben when he saw her. He had sensed her for quite sometime, and had felt her indecision in interrupting what was obviously a private family moment. Her presence was hesitant, but it was one that was focused more on Mara than the rest of the family. Making a decision he looked at his wife, who was leaning against the rock with her eyes closed, and stood up hoisting his son into his arms. "Jade, I'll meet you back at the ship. Lowbacca, Ben and I will get started checking the stabilizers." Almost as an after thought he added, "Don't worry I won't take anything apart without Ben's strict permission."

Languidly, belatedly, her eyes flickered open in confusion.

Luke placed a soft kiss on her forehead"Say good bye to your mother Ben." Ben flashed a toothy grin, content.

_Luke?_

_Jade, she's not here to talk to me. _

Standing, Mara turned and watched the cautious approach of a woman dressed in the faded fatigues of the medical corps. Slightly tan in complexion, she had short-cropped black hair that consisted of tight black curls pinned in place to stay out of her face. As she drew closer Mara realized that there was something distinct about the woman's features.

Mara frowned"Have we met before"

The woman smiled"Once, briefly before the war began. I doubt you would even remember meeting me." The stress lines on her forehead stretched out for a moment as she rubbed her fingers across it.

Her gesture sparked something in Mara's memory"Dr. Stanton"

The woman blinked, surprised, and nodded. "Not Dr. Stanton anymore, I got married." She laughed lightly"Which is why I'm here. My husband wanted to thank you for something that you did before the war, so he told me, before we had to part ways that if I ever saw you to give you this." She reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out a datacard. "You and your family have done more for us then you probably even realize. We're glad to see that you're in good health, and happy."

Mara accepted the data card and looked at the doctor curiously. "We did what we had to do for the galaxy…not only for ourselves but for our children."

The former Dr. Stanton nodded. "I know. I have a two year old daughter who I haven't seen in about a year. It's why my husband and I chose to separate. I was needed here, and he had other responsibilities where he could better serve the war effort, and guarantee her safety. Now with the death of Nom Anor, and the end of the war, there is closure, something that we needed desperately." The comm at her hip buzzed, and she sighed"I have to get back, I'm only on Zonama Sekot because of some of the injured, but I'm due back on the frigate."

There was something about her, some strange familiarity, how she said so little but expressed so much. Mara watched as she turned and began to walk away without another word.

"Doctor." The woman turned around.

"Yes"

"What's your daughter's name" Mara had meant to ask about her husband.

The doctor's expression became wistful"Names are important. You named your son for your husband's mentor-I for my husband's first wife; her grace and spirit are some things I want my daughter to strive for, in her own way. "

Mara raised her eyebrows in question.

She shrugged"Elbereth. Her name is Elbereth."

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_It has been a long, hard road. _

_I saw greed, violence, and death, along with the despair; the grim haunted, hollow bleakness of those grasping for hope._

_I saw hero's fall, martyrs spurn hate and symbols show another generation why they were chosen to lead. _

_I saw the murderous glee of our fighting forces as they stepped beyond the realms of civilization to torture, to mutilate, to hate; all in the name of fighting back, all in the name of war. _

_I saw one man's selfishness, maliciousness and need for vengeance fuel a crusade that was not in his hands to fight. He showed me how hatred can make a good man choose evil; how I could just as easily fall prey to the dark. _

_I hated him, but I learned that appearances can be deceiving. _

_Through his internal struggle I saw him fight back. I saw him give light to those who desperately needed it. I saw him give life to those on the brink of slipping over the edge, and I watched as he broke his self imposed chains, beating back his history, his anger, and his narrow self-serving principles to be the man he used to be. _

_I saw him lead; I saw his soul. _


	3. Post 1

**Post 1**

**Two years before the invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong.**

**Thyferra**

This was not the first time he had left Valdet. As the heir to the Romani family, he had been sent out into the galaxy to observe and learn about different planetary governments. To establish, for himself, just how a planet should be governed. Midway through his studies in galactic science and politics there was an earthquake on the small mid-rim colony where he was interning, and to help fulfill the desperate call he had spent his time there volunteering with the relief organizations to aid the injured and dying.

It was there that he achieved the realization that to help beings in the hour of their greatest need, to make the pain and the suffering disappear was one of the greatest things that anyone could ever aspire to do. So, after discussions with his parents, he redirected his studies to specialize in medicine with a focus on research and disaster relief in times of mass crisis.

That was why he first came to Thyferra. After receiving his medical degree he had chosen to accept a fellowship at one of the planets oldest research medcenter's, instead of heading straight out into the field. He hoped to become versed in the new developments in bacta technology, to maybe find a way to maximize its usage during times of need. In the middle of his research, he had come home for the _Dekia__ Delori_, the celebration of his sister, Anian's, tenth birthday. That day destroyed any of Tristan's plans for the future.

He had been young, naïve and was not able to fathom the consequences and deep-rooted fear that had caused the murder of over fifty of his family members. All his observation had still not taught him the malleable nature of power. He was not ready to lead, so instead his great-uncle, old, wise and prepared, took the reigns doling out whatever retribution he could.

Now, nearly twelve years later, Tristan was back on Thyferra, but for an entirely different purpose; he wasn't here to cure or to heal, rather he was on Thyferra to find one man--

And kill him.

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_Bzz__ Bzz_

Nestor Alluvia stifled a groan as his commlink went off for the third time that hour.

"Yes?" his answer was muffled, camouflaging the terseness he was feeling.

"Did you get the information?" Tristan's voice was strained.

The bodyguard frowned. "It is currently downloading at 85, but as I mentioned earlier, we can only download records in two week intervals. We won't be able to get last week's information for another five days."

"You made sure the search was for--"

"Yes." Nestor cut him off.

"Alright." There was a bit of annoyance coming through, and Nestor assumed more than a little strain.

"Doctor, is everything going well on your end? Any luck with the scouting at the port?"

"No."

"Is your head still hurting?"

"I am taking care of it." Tristan snapped, then softened his tone. "I'm right across from a med center, getting supplies. I may be late. I'll see you tomorrow." The commlink clicked off, and that was about it. No explanation, no elaboration, just as much information as Tristan was willing to give, and could say. Nestor knew there was much brewing beneath the surface, just as he knew the doctor was not going to be able to continue his self-medication regimen. The injuries he had sustained when the palace on Valdet City collapsed would only get worse. The funny thing was that despite being on the bacta capital of the galaxy, Tristan, in no uncertain terms had dismissed it as an option. And what he said, went. That much, in terms of ground rules had been established.

The trip to Thyferra had been surreal. No interaction, no conversations, and in his attempts to approach the monarch, Alluvia had learnt that the new Tristan demanded only one thing: the death of Iker Rafagr. Anything that would get in the way was trivial--including his own health needs. Tonight, though, Nestor would try again, at least to make Tristan see reason, or die trying.

Ominously, a siren went off above his head. It had been going off all day whenever an accident occurred in the city--up to the date information along a governmental channel. For some reason this was different, and feeling a premonition urged Nestor to glance at the newsscan above the port-authority doorway.

_Accident, in front of __Xucphera__Medical__Center__ Emergency personal responding. One known victim, male, human. No identification at this time. _

Without a doubt in his mind, Nestor could only think of one thing. _Tristan!_

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"Is your head still hurting?"

_What type of a question is that. My head has been hurting every day since we got here. He knows the answer. _

Recognizing that he was going to sound irritated, Tristan replied, "I am taking care of it." He heard himself, and grimaced and used some effort to remove the edge from his voice. _Nestor means well. _

"I'm right across from a med center, getting supplies. I may be late. I'll see you tomorrow." Without waiting for an answer, he glanced up and blinked against the Thyferran sun. The med center had expanded since he saw it last and not only were there three more emergency bays, it was obvious from the outside that at least five more sections had been added. From across the speedway, he winced. A lot had happened since he had been on Thyferra, he doubted anyone would recognize him, not that it mattered. The pain was too much, and he needed to restock.

For the last few days, Tristan had been sure he had, at minimum, a mid-level concussion, something he had been ignoring. The strain he had put on his ribs after the explosion, carrying Elbereth's body had cause swelling and jolts of pain that he had been able to suppress with the medication acquired before they fled Valdet. Now that the adrenaline was gone he realized he had to go to the med center, there was no way he could ignore the problems, ignore the pain. The constant humidity made him sweat all the time, even the vibrations that were occurring as the speeders blew by intensified the constant thrum that destroyed his concentration.

"Sir, are you all right?" Not trusting his voice he nodded at the woman next to him, ignoring the blurring of his vision.

He spotted a clearing in the traffic pattern and stepped off the curb, a few steps ahead of the lighted causeway just wanting to get away from the suffocation--too many people were staring at him. He made it halfway, and without warning his breath hitched, and a jolt of pain, as if someone had taken a knife and slid it along his body, punctured his nerves from head to toe. As his senses overloaded he barely heard the loud screech of machinery, but he saw the bright light just before the speeder slammed into him.

As he lay there staring up at the large glistening medical symbol flashing down at him from the building, he was aware of nothing until he heard a soft lilting voice demand passage through the crowd surrounding him...

"Excuse me, I'm a doctor, let me through."

A blurry figure, a woman with dark hair glanced down at him, he could not make out any features. I_ker__ is going to get away. Don't let me…._He croaked, "It is not time yet, let me…."

Then his entire world faded to black.

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**Coruscant**

The cursor blinked, taunting her.

At any given moment, she had, at the very least, four writers awaiting her signal. It would be so easy to just let them do this for her. In fact, it would probably even make someone's career, but Leia Organa Solo had never taken the easy way out. This was her task alone.

She had taken breaks before, left the fate of the galaxy in someone else's hands, but had found herself quickly enfolded back into the enormous juggernaut of the New Republic. She had even heard some outsiders claim that the New Republic was Leia Organa Solo's life; the New Republic could not function without her, as she could not exist without a crucial place in directing its path.

After the last election, her opponents described her as being the Empress, the attention-grabbing daughter of Darth Vader who needed the reigns of power to keep herself from fading away. Others believed that the galaxy was at fault, dealing with an intense fear of abandonment.

To some extent it was true. She had spent so much of her life fighting for the Rebellion, fighting for the New Republic or in the New Republic, where most of her time was spent in heated arguments or discussions. To some extent, she had never really been at peace, and some part of her wondered who she was without the political career. The events of the past year with the Shadow Academy and the Diversity Alliance had shown her that her children were self-sufficient, already making decisions on their own, and Leia wished she had spent more time with them as they grew. As a Jedi, she felt as if she had stagnated, even though Luke said her potential was still strong albeit in the diplomatic arena.

Who was Leia Organa Solo without the title? She may not be sure right now, but she could learn--there was time yet.

Leia knew that in the next few months the pressure would build, the questions _will she or won't she_ would be heard time and time again on the holonet. She wanted it to be clear that _she_ had made the decision and had not been influenced by some poll or some advertising scheme that her supporters had dreamt up. The only way to accomplish this was to write the speech herself, to explain to the people why she had to step down, to explain to _herself_ why it was time to step out of this phase of her life. She wanted to put her heart into it, and hopefully in the end maybe she would surprise herself.

Maybe.

A whisper in her subconscious urged her to start writing, and presently thoughts began to flow like water on Mon Calamari. Pieces appeared to be falling together, and her fingertips began to tingle with the force of her emotions.

A light tap on her door broke her out of reverie. Without looking up, semi-aware that she probably looked as frazzled as she felt, she called out casually, "Come in."

Han strode in, with the same general air of confidence that had surrounded him all his life, "Sweetheart, I'm about to head out."

Leia glanced up, gave him a quick smile and nodded absently, "I'll see you at home." She glanced back down at the screen and frowned, _That__ doesn't sound right._

She vaguely heard the door swish shut before his words caught up with her. _Wait a second, he's not going home. _Leia was halfway out of her seat when two hands appeared on her shoulders, gently pushing her back down.

A whisper in her ear, "Relax, did you think I would leave without a kiss goodbye?"

Leia smiled and turned around in her swivel chair to face her kneeling husband. "Of course not." She winced, "Sorry about that."

"Its Ok Princess-I know I have to get dismissed from time to time." He watched as her pretty features turned into a worried frown.

There was a slight edge to his voice, "Han?" she asked.

Han flashed her one of his scoundrel grins. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're going to Ord Mantell, I remember what happened. I think you're safe from bounties, and besides you're going for a legitimate reason, they _invited _you there." It was unlike Han to get nervous.

He grinned again, "Yea, nothing to worry about."

Leia laughed, "Go have fun General."

"I will, Anakin expressed an interest in coming along, so I'm also going to stop by Yavin and pick up the twins. Think they'd want to see their old man as Grand Marshal?"

Leia smiled wistfully, thinking about how she would rather go with him, than go another round with bureaucracy. "Yes, I think they would."

Han leaned forward on his haunches and kissed her forehead. He opened his mouth to say goodbye when, as usual, her announcer went off.

The voice of her aide came over the speakers, "Ma'm, I'm sorry but Counciler Fey'lya would like a word with you."

_Hatred is of the Dark Side. _"Tell him I will comm him back in a moment."

"He's in the foyer."

Leia groaned inaudibly, _And__ around and around I go._ "I'll be out in a minute." The comm popped as it went silent, and she turned to Han to tell him that she would see him when he got back.

He patted her knee, and got back to his feet. "You take your time, I"ll find something to keep me busy. With Chewbacca not here, I have all the time in the world."

Leia grabbed a datapad and headed towards to door, while he settled himself at her desk. She turned back towards him and winked, "Thanks."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Leia slipped into her outer office catching Borsk Fey'lya's attention. He had been looking down at the magnificent view of the Senate building, comparing it to the view in his office and arriving to the conclusion that being Chief of State had some hidden perks.

He was, as usual, immaculately groomed, with that consistent crystal clear glint of ambition in his eyes. Today though, there was something else, some aura that Leia noticed the moment she walked into the room. She wasn't quite sure what his glowing Force presence indicated, and took her place behind her desk before leaning forward, gesturing for him to begin.

"Chief of State Organa Solo." The Bothan nodded sagely as he took a seat, "I would like to speak to you about the Duro shipping contract."

She raised her eyebrows, purposely patronizing him. "You know it is already off the table. The final vote is this afternoon." The Duro shipping contract had seemed to be a simple appropriation bill, extending the contract that the Duro had to manufacture and ship some defense supplies for the New Republic. The simple bill had been tacked on with so many riders that it had taken months for Leia and a coalition of delegates to come to various compromises, although even with these compromises the bill was not guaranteed to pass.

Unfazed, Borsk looked at her, "I realize that. My concern is in regard to today's vote. I believe it should be kept open. A roll call, so that we know exactly where everyone stands."

_A roll call vote on this simple piece of legislation?_ "An open vote is logical, as this legislation is heavily based on public opinion and needs, why a roll-call?" An open vote, as opposed to an anonymous vote, was immediately placed on public record, while a roll call vote basically required Leia, or her representative to call each delegate forward to publicly and vocally submit his or her vote instead of instantaneously submitting an electronic vote. In the presence of a quorum, that often meant that the Chief of State would be required to remain in chambers for lengthy periods of time.

He matched her tone, dripping with overt sarcasm. "Madame Chief of State, this legislation has been in committee for months, I think it is time to find out who wanted to keep the government in gridlock over this issue, especially when we are in the final stages of moving to a partial peacetime military. If certain individuals are forced to vocally submit their vote—providing a soundbite to today's holonews, we may find that the final tally may shift beyond predictions, allowing the revised bill to pass."

Leia frowned, suspicion entering her subconscious, she stood up to lead him to the door. "We have four hours before the vote, let me put out some feelers. If I feel it is applicable, then we'll take a preliminary tally via electronic then see if the votes change once the roll call is announced."

Just outside the office he looked at her with a hint of malice, "See to it that you do, or you may have bigger problems than the bill not passing."

Walking back into her private office, she fumed. _I can't believe he threatened me. After all this time…and over something as small as a Duro's shipping package! He's planning something. _

Han was sitting at her desk, staring intently at her vidscreen. When she walked in, he pressed a few keys, and stood up.

"I take it things didn't go well?"

"Borsk..is Borsk. He's hiding something again."

Han frowned. "Want me to ask around? I can talk to Karrde, he's bound to be at Ord Mantell, or somewhere nearby."

Leia shrugged. "It could be useful, but then again, it may just be his typical hot air." She shook herself visibly, and changed the subject. "So what were you up to?"

Han waved his personal data pad. "I was reading your speech. You don't mind if I keep it and read it over again?"

"Of course not, show it to Luke and Mara too. I think that they should weigh in as well, as I mention the Jedi." Leia bit her lip, thinking for a moment. "It's not done yet though, so I'll send them updated files," she hesitated for a moment. "I think I'm going to run it by Mon Mothma, and see what she thinks."

Han gave her a sideways glance, and enfolded her into his arms. "How is she?"

Leia shrugged, "As well as can be expected; I think she's happy to be back on Chandrila."

"Hmm…" He rubbed his chin along the crown of her head, smelling her hair. It was something that always helped relieve her stress.

Leia buried her face into his shoulder. "Be careful at Ord Mantell. Have fun."

Han pulled her back from him and winked, "Hey, it's me. Of course I will."

Leis kissed him and laughed.

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**Yavin**

"Run to the falls."

A single phrase urged her forward. There were no other instructions, save one, and part of her wondered if this was some sort of test or trial, instead of a regular lesson.

Considering the speaker, she could not be completely sure.

So she ran.

She sensed the branches as they whipped by her, ducking before they hit her face, thankful that she had worn longer training pants. As she ran, she followed the one instruction that was provided, an obvious request, but one that had been vocalized for emphasis. She reached into herself and tapped into the Force.

Almost immediately her perception changed. In her narrow view of her path to the falls, she could sense that she was racing against something, or someone. She could _see_ where she was supposed to turn, when to duck away from an overhead branch, when to swing away from an acid vine. Time collapsed, and all of a sudden she was there, all her obstacles disappeared leaving a deceptively open clearing before her. She kept her pace consistent, but stretched her senses out further-- abruptly halting as her danger sense kicked in warning her to not move any further.

She could sense her Aunt smiling. "You can take off your blindfold now."

Reaching up Jaina pulled the coarse linen fabric away from her eyes, and nearly fell. She was standing a hairsbreadth away from the edge of the rock outcropping that jutted out towards the falls. One more step and she would have fallen over and into the waterfall.

She looked around her and frowned, "Where is everyone else?"

Mara glanced back to the forest, "Most in your group is still in the forest. Tenel Ka and Lowie beat you by a few minutes. Tenel Ka managed to catch her balance right before she fell over, then after Lowie hit the water, decided it was hot enough for a dip. So they're both down there waiting for the others. In fact, your brother is right behind you."

Jaina grinned, "No surprise there, he's been following me since birth."

Mara laughed, and turned with her niece to face the forest, watching as Jacen, with the same linen blindfold, made his way out of the woods and towards the rock outcropping. He never even made it close to the rock, as he sensed his sister standing off to the side and was able to change direction, coming to a stop nearly five feet away.

For a moment he paused, catching his breath then called, "Jaya?"

Jaina glanced at Mara who nodded. "You can take off your blindfold Jace."

With one hand he removed the fabric and quickly took in his surroundings. "Where's everyone else?"

Jaina grinned at her brother, "Oh, Tenel Ka is down by the water." She giggled as Jacen's face became more flushed.

He mumbled something under his breath, which Jaina didn't catch, but Mara heard Zekk's name and smiled inwardly. Together, the Jedi watched the rest of the students come into the clearing, masking their presences. Most were not able to stop themselves before falling from the ledge, but with the Force and Mara's help, were able to slow themselves down before they dived into the water. All were thankful for a respite from the day's heat.

As the students made their way back towards the academy grounds, Mara felt a small tickle in the back of her subconscious. Barely noticeable at first, the urgency it encompassed grew until finally, in the middle of a step, right at the entrance to the Great Temple she found herself sinking to her knees.

Her eyes still open Mara saw a half vision rise before her, reminiscent of the one she had right before the battle against the Diversity Alliance. _A man standing on rubble in Valdet, his presence screaming for vengeance._ This time though there was a distinctly different feeling, as if something had gone wrong, and that it was Mara and only Mara that could prevent disaster from striking. She had been told, during the initial vision, that she would not leave for Valdet and Danshitie until after the reconstruction of the Great Temple, and since then she had been waiting for a sign—now she had one.

And before the vague scene before her collapsed, Mara heard the background murmurings turn into a phrase that was repeated over and over emblazoning it into her mind.

_It has the power to destroy all that he shall fight to preserve. _It was a woman's voice, one Mara did not recognize, but through her almost choking desperation she understood that whatever happened in the next few months her role would affect Tristan's ultimate destiny, whether he knew it or not.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Aunt Mara,"

"Maybe we should have her lie down, maybe the sun was too much."

"Aunt Mara?"

"She's having a Force vision."

"Oh."

"Aunt Mara!"

Jacen could tell that Jaina's slightly panicked voice was reaching through to their Aunt because, the haze-unseeing look that the rest of the Young Jedi could see in her perpetually open eyes was gradually disappearing into the fringes of her eyelids. She inhaled sharply and then blinked, shooting to her feet while blasting off orders in succession.

"Jacen, your uncle is on his way to our quarters from the sparring rooms, meet him halfway and send him to the Sabre."

"Raynar, Zekk, Lowbacca-could you grab some of the food supplies for a couple weeks trip from the storage facilities and bring them back here."

"Tenel Ka, you're the fastest here, can you run to my quarters and bring back the bag that's sitting by the cooking area-Artoo will let you in."

"Jaina," Mara hesitated, finally taking a moment to breathe. "Jaina, you remember how I showed you how to warm up the Sabre?"

Jaina nodded, aghast.

Mara felt a twinge of nervousness, "Go. Warm her up."

Jaina turned to jog to the ship then turned half way around again. "Aunt Mara-do you want a quick start or a mid-level cold start?" She hollered.

Mara's head snapped towards her niece, and if she hadn't been in a rush, she would have teased her about how she obviously had been studying up for this very moment. Instead she yelled back—"mid level," and watched Jaina's retreating form before turning back to those waiting to see if she needed anything else.

She smiled warily at the others in the group, which included Lusa and a young man named Antar who had thought she had too much sun. "The Force doesn't always give advance warning with its visions, ask Master Skywalker or any of the other older Jedi about proper procedure if you're around someone who has a vision. Moving them is probably not a good idea, but odds are if the vision is intense, the recipient won't notice. It is also fairly disorienting until you get used to it." She paused, "I'll see you when I get back, practice your reaction time to danger, it's the key to moving fast enough to avoid it since often times, as Jedi you must react without any hesitation." Quickly dismissing them she took fifteen minutes to sprint to the locked ammunitions bunker to check out some power packs for her blaster, then made her way back to the Sabre where the Young Jedi Knights were loading up the supplies that Raynar, Zekk and Lowbacca had brought.

She boarded the ramp, stowed the munitions and made her way to the cockpit where Jaina was keeping herself busy monitoring the start-up systems.

"How's she doing?"

Jaina looked up from the copilot seat, her face beaming, "Good."

"Thanks for asking about the start-up. Smart. "There was a shuffle of boots behind her and Mara walked over to Jaina. "Your Uncle's here, could you go help the others load up?"

Jaina nodded, feeling the change in her Aunt's demeanor, and slipped out of the copilot's seat. She nodded to her Uncle, who offered her a tense unhappy smile, as he allowed her to pass by him. She made her way through the corridor, down the ramp to where the other Young Jedi Knights were talking. All of a sudden, she didn't feel quite so sure of herself.

Jacen looked at her blinked, "What's wrong?"

Jaina glared at him. "Sometimes I hate having a twin." She watched as Zekk and Lowie hefted a large crate into the Sabre's hold.

"No you don't, what's wrong?"

Jaina shrugged, "I feel like we never see her."

Her twin frowned-"Aunt Mara? I don't think she likes having to leave, but she's married to Uncle Luke, and strong in the Force. Its nothing she can control."

Jaina nodded, "I know. I still feel bad-she and Uncle Luke have been married nearly five years now, and I think they've spent half that time together...at home!"

Tenel Ka reached over to pat Jaina on the shoulder, reiterating "But she serves the Force, as does Master Skywalker."

The three of them lapsed into silence, which was broken as Zekk and Lowie came around the corner laughing at something.

Either he was ignoring the atmosphere they had walked into or just didn't notice, the dark haired former Dark Jedi walked over to Jaina and draped his arm over her shoulders giving her an affectionate squeeze. "So, you finally got to touch the elusive _Jade Sabre_?"

Jaina smiled at that, pushing her momentary fears to the back of her mind. "Yes, I did, and you wouldn't believe what she uses for her anti-grav….

Jacen couldn't help but grin, because whatever was worrying his sister, the excitement that she felt by working on Aunt Mara's ship completely superseded any of her other concerns. He glanced at Tenel Ka who was watching him curiously. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Wanna hear a joke?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Luke Skywalker was a complicated man. As the nephew of a simple moisture farmer from Tatooine, and the son of one of the most evil men in the galaxy, he had spent his youth becoming a symbol of the Jedi Order while working towards the reestablishment of the Jedi Knights. Now, reaching middle age, he had found contentment through quieter, more personal victories, through his marriage to Mara Jade.

Life was as it should be.

Nearly.

As he passed his niece in the hall he offered her a smile, a quiet one that he knew exhibited some measure of the myriad of emotion currently running through his mind.

Mara was in the cockpit of the _Jade Sabre, _and as he entered, she turned from the console, and dropped her tightly woven shields. Her feelings mirrored his own, and his frown grew deeper. While she leaned against the board with her arms crossed he took in her appearance. As usual, she was immaculately dressed, her red hair pulled back into a high braid, unadorned and tucked away from her face. In green slacks and a shirt, he could tell that she had not even given herself time to change after her class, although her lightsaber was latched onto her hip. He watched her for a moment before speaking.

"Valdet and Danshitie?" His voice was soft, knowing the answer before she articulated it.

She nodded, solemn. "I saw myself walking onto the ship, and the sun was just slipping behind the Great Temple."

"I would go with you."

Mara smiled sadly, "I know, but Kyp and Streen have yet to check in, and you know as well as I do that Force visions can't wait."

He crossed the distance between them and took her hand, surprised to find it slightly cool to the touch. Worried he lifted a palm to her face, and frowned. "What happened?"

Mara shrugged, and inhaled slowly. "I've never had that type of vision before, while it was mere moments, I could see the horrors of Valdet and Danshitie as if they were occurring right here on Yavin IV." Her eyes fluttered closed, remembering.

He reached for her other hand, and squeezed it reassuringly, "It unsettled you?"

While her outward appearance was her usual calm façade, her reply, a low whisper, betrayed her fears. "Yes."

"Mara," Her green eyes looked into his, and their senses intermingled. He passed on as much warmth and reassurance as he could before crushing her to his chest in a tight hug. "You'll do fine."

_You know me so well._

Luke ran his hand down the back of her neck, soothing her, and pulled her away slightly before leaning in for a farewell kiss. _I love you Mara Jade-Skywalker._

_I love you too farmboy. _She hesitated, but could feel the internal clock ticking. _I have to leave. _

Walking arm in arm down the ramp, she said goodbye to the younger Jedi. As the _Sabre_took off she heard his voice in her head.

_The Force has willed it, and I shall try to follow. Remember, you are never alone. When it wants its will heard, the Force shall guide you. _

And as the ship winked into hyperspace, she heard one final message.

_These are your trials._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Thyferra**

The door to the Xuchpera City Medical Center Emergency Room slammed open.

A mechanized voice called out. "Station four is open."

The whirl of repulsors and wheels could barely be heard as the practiced stretcher bearers turned towards the larger of the two new emergency bays.

Just behind them came the petite, dark haired doctor, just starting her shift, calling out orders to the team while simultaneous stripping off her light jacket and tossing her bag behind the desk. Her sneakers squeaked as she sprinted into the disinfectant room, stabbing at the intercom while she waited for the doors to unlock.

"What's going on."

A 2-1B answered. "Human, male, no identification or medical bracelet. Hit by a car just outside."

"I know that I'm the DOS."

The droid continued. "Some breakage in the legs, ribs are tender—evidence of prior injury in the abdomen, there are bandages, scarring."

_SWISH_ The doors let her through. She snapped on a pair of gloves and moved towards the victim's head, checking his eyes. "There's evidence of head trauma." She grabbed the scanner droid that was floating overhead. "Do a neural analysis. X259" Almost immediately a low light shot out from the underside mapping the brain through light waves.

A loud tone to his right alerted the team to a shift in vitals.

A Twi'lek nurse called out. "Doctor, we lost the pulse, he's not breathing,"

She blew some hair out of her face. "Crash cart."

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP_

"Try again, in three-two-one."

"There is a detection of some blood loss--"

She cut off the droid, gesturing to the med student , "Aimei, I need another hand over here, we need to stop the bleeding."

"Right here Doctor."

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEP_

"Three-two-one."

_BEEEEEEEEEEP_

"Push 12 milligrams of ----

_BEEEEEEEEEP_

_Blip.__ Blip. Blip-blip. Blip. Blip. Blip._

"Doctor, I have a rhythm, its weak but there."

She took a deep breath. "All right, let's see if we can get some of this patched up. Then we'll send him to the tanks."

The scanner droid hovered near her arm. "Analysis complete."

She glanced up to look at the screen with the results, "Shavit."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The seats in the emergency room were comfortable enough, but Nestor did not notice. Ever since he had arrived the night before he had become engrossed in meditation, reading and rereading Elbereth's letter to him before she died. _I put my faith in you. _

_For what you have done and shall do. I thank you._

His mind screamed, at himself. _Why didn't you make him get help. _At Tristan. _Fight, don't give up. How can I protect you if you won't save yourself? _

"Sir?"

Nestor looked up. If it had been another time, another place, he would have been able to appreciate the subtle beauty of the woman—_no doctor_-- before him. Instead he offered a wan, tired smile in greeting, which froze halfway when his fatigued mind took in the expression on her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you a relative of the individual who was hit outside this hospital today?"

"His hi-doc-"He winced, "His name is Tristan. I'm his cousin. Nestor Alluvia"

"Mr. Alluvia. We should sit down." She reached over and gently, placing both arms on the larger mans crossed elbows and pulled him back into the seat. This was the worst part about her job, giving the bad news to the loved ones.

"Mr. Alluvia. I'm Dr. Stanton. I was the doctor that arrived first on the scene after the accident, and who worked on him here, in the ER. Mr. Alluvia, I'm so sorry…"

**End Post 1**

**Credit: ****All mine...although a few things to think of..the quotation I put up there from the YJK book is also representative of this final story. Also I'm basing Leia's experiences off of a bunch of different things, specifically her reaction to the Senate in Star by Star where she finally realizes it is time to move on...(sorry i felt i should explain my musings) T****he events on Yavin take place right before _Return to Ord Mantell _b/c in the start of the book is a scene with Kyp and Streen returning from a mission...Also.... I've been watching too much of ER...and DOSDoctor on Scene...**


	4. Post 2

**Post 2**

_His name was Tristan. _

_Tris__-tan.__ Tris-tan._

_At the time the name meant nothing. In fact there would be days in the weeks following where I would curse his name for coming into my life and making my peaceful existence one of pure impatience. _

_That conversation I had with Nestor was one of the hardest I have ever had to have. For some doctors, informing the family of death is the hardest. Not for me. It is not indifference, but I know that with time the loved one's can move on, and allow happy memories of the dead to overtake them, muting the rawness of emotion and outpouring of grief, forgetting that I was the catalyst. _

_I know, I was once in their place. _

_Stasis.__ Coma. Asleep. Alive, but dead. Dead, but alive. _

_All it leaves the family, those left behind, with is time. They are left in a limbo, forced to watch the victim waste away until death finally comes. _

_I know, I am in their place. _

xxxxxxxxxx

He could hear their hushed whispers; he swam in darkness unable to move forward or back. How long had he been here? Where was Elbereth?

Mama? Sorn?

Anian?

Then it came back--the bomb, Iker, the grove, Iker, the oppressive heavy ache and suffocation that had dried Valdet into dry tinder waiting for the spark. Iker.

Why was he just staying here, in this blackened hell. What happened? Where was he? The longer he stayed here, the further _he _would get. His fists clenched, a scream filled his ears, and his ears pounded with fury. Iker had to pay.

He …had…to…get…out…..

He pushed.

Pushed.

And the light blinded him.

xxxxxxxxx

Dr. Keladry Stanton heard Tristan Romani long before she arrived at his room. As she walked swiftly along the green and blue tiled walls that marked the 32nd floor Stasis Ward, the banging and incoherent sounds emitting from the corner room caused her to flinch, recalling studies on post-coma dementia.

From her vantage point at the end of the hall she saw two orderlies carrying restraints run into the room. Moments later she stepped in front of the door, her hand flying to her heart, as she took in the disordered and chaotic tableaux before her.

Tristan Romani, the human male who had been lying in stasis for the better part of three weeks, was standing by the far side of the room, fully clothed, his hospital gown and the restraints angrily discarded against the wall. He did not notice the doctor entering the room, because his attention focused on struggling to stay upright, refusing the orderlies offer of support, or ignoring them as they tried to calm him down. At the only exit to the room, she could tell that the full wrath of his anger was directed towards his cousin Nestor. She glanced at the older gentleman's eyes taking in the glint of immense grief and pain before they quickly shifted back to a steady resolve.

"Nestor, are you listening to me?!!" She stopped the urge to cover her ears at the volume.

"Yes Doctor." Steady, hushed, respectful.

Keladry glanced between the two, confused. _Doctor?_ This perception changed as she remembered the neat bandaging on Mr. Romani's ribcages, and suddenly the title made more sense.

Tristan slammed his hand on the bed frame, contact emitting a muted ring. "We have to leave, I saw _him_. He's getting away-I can't stay here any longer. _Why are you just standing there!"_

"We can't leave Doctor."

"Like sith we can!" Keladry observed as the man's face broke into a snarl.

"No, we cannot." Purposefully, Nestor injected a bit more force so this last statement was snapped off.

Obviously fed up, her patient moved, suddenly finding a reservoir of energy. "Fine, I'll go myself-" Tristan let go of the bed he was holding onto for support, and lunged for the small table, willing his legs to walk succeeding only in knocking over the metal cup and bowl in his way. The bowl slammed into the remote to the holovid remote that was already lying on the floor, immediately causing the volume in the room to double. This time Keladry _did_ cover her ears and observed as Nestor lunged to the floor snatching the remote up, lowering the volume.

She removed her hands watching carefully as her patient's face twisted in pain. Keladry could see him physically push all that he was feeling to the back of his mind. He stood straight, and almost immediately collapsed again.

Softly, but forcefully she cleared her throat. "That's enough." She glanced at the orderlies and flicked her wrist. "Get him back into bed." For a moment, it looked like Tristan was going to struggle indefinitely against them before the obvious fatigue kicked in and took over. His labored breathing was evident, and it was only after the orderlies had been dismissed that Nester looked away from his cousin and acknowledged her presence. "Dr. Stanton."

"Nestor." She turned to her patient, whose sudden silence was marked only by a low hum from the vid screen's replay of the Ord Mantell Blockade Runner's Derby from two weeks ago, the holoreporters still talking about how it had been won by the youngest crew, whose dual roles as Jedi brought some extra controversy. Annoyed, she looked at the screen, and briefly recognized Han Solo's face before waving the set off.

Tristan was in some overt pain, his eyes squeezed shut as if willing it away. It was to be expected, considering the number of injuries he had, but while a little anger was normal, it normally exhibited itself after the lost time was discovered. At this point, most coma patients were simply glad to be alive.

"Mr. Romani, my name is Doctor Stanton. I have been treating you since your accident, do you remember what happened?" She slowly removed his right arm from where it was clenched around his mid-section and began manually taking his blood pressure.

Silence.

"Well, you were hit by a speeder outside the hospital, pushing you into a coma. Your cousin Nestor has been looking after you since then."

Silence.

"I was the Doctor on Scene when you were hit, and there are some questions about your medical history that I would like to go over. First, though, I am going to give you something for the pain, alright?" She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a syringe.

On the bed, Tristan processed her words. _Pain, without pain you can leave. _At a normal pitch, his voice resonated hoarsely, "What …is...it?"

Pursing her lips, Keladry took a chance to see if her suspicions were correct. "A cocktail of meds called …Tri"

"Tri-locis-sin?" He whispered, interrupting her, "I can't take that."

"Why not?" Her eyes searched his face expectantly, her hands deftly readying the medication.

"I've been taking Dilatyain. I'll have a negative reaction with the cocktail."

_He doesn't realize it has been three weeks._ Keladry sighed and busied herself with his arm. "Mr. Romani, not very many civilians know that mixing Dilatyain with Locisidan can be fatal. So I am going to assume that you have a medical degree of some sort and consequently, you will understand what I am about to say to you. On the other hand, if you have questions, feel free to ask." Gently, she pushed the plunger, providing nearly instant relief. The combination of meds relaxed Tristan's tense body, keeping him numb yet alert.

"Nearly three weeks ago, you crossed a busy intersection in front of this building and was hit by a speeder decelerating, but still going just below optimum velocity. I am sure you know the catalog of injuries you had before the accident. Compounded with the damage that the speeder accomplished, you should have died. When the mapping of your cerebellum was completed there was a significant amount of swelling along with scarring from a Level 4 cortex concussion. We were able to identify your pain killers from a basic tox screen."

Tristan wheezed, his breath suddenly knocked out of him. "I wasn't supposed to wake up." _But you did, and it is because it is your duty to find Iker and make him pay. _He could feel the anger swell up again

She looked at him, her sometimes pale green-brown eyes shifting to their darker hazel color, closely examining his face. "No, you were not. Therefore, I advise you take it easy for a little while, and whatever you have to do..." _Whoever you need to follow,_ "...can wait. I am sure I do not need to say the dreaded 'your health comes first' speech." She pulled out a datapad, and turned it on. "I have taken the liberty of placing you in line for a bacta immersion. While you were in a coma we used patches, which –"

He interrupted her again, "--are slower. Fine. As long as I can leave after that." His fury, and anger may have been under control now, but it was still there, hovering beneath the surface.

Keladry gave him measured examination, hiding her exasperation. _What is wrong with this guy! _"Yes, please; sign here." He signed and then stared at her blankly, dismissing her as if he were a King.

Trying to be patient, to understand what this man must be feeling, she restrained herself from commenting. Instead, she turned to get a nurse to wheel him to the tanks. Before reaching the door she found herself paused by a strong grip on her arm. She looked up into Nestor's placid features.

He kept his voice low, but she could hear his sincerity; and a certain amount of helplessness-whether regarding his cousin's actions or his behavior she wasn't sure, but it was still there. "Doctor. Thank You."

She nodded, leaving the two silent men to stare at each other.

xxxxxxxxxx

**Valdet**

**"**What you must understand, Master Jade-Skywalker, is that Iker Rafagr came to us. He knew of our opposition votes to the banning of unilateral extermination policies in both former planetary ruling bodies and he used that knowledge to build up a power base to use against the monarchs and their loyalists. Sian and I were chosen by him, _manipulated_ by him because our constant outspoken rhetoric against the rule of both the Morodin and Romani. " De-facto leader of Danshitie, Koi Esperenza sat behind her desk in her temporary office in Valdet City, valiantly trying to justify the rebel actions while keeping a guarded eye on the Jedi Master before her. "How can we be to blame for following orders that we hoped was from a revolutionary, someone who could bring lasting stability to the region?"

Sitting in the wide office room, with a view of the destroyed palace, Mara frowned at the tall, lithe woman. "I am not sure I am the one to answer the question, but let me ask you this:

Are your people happier now than in the six months of Tristan and Elbereth's rule? Or are they unsettled, afraid of repercussions if they spoke out against this new regime? A democratic government taken by force often leads to leadership through fear, where those who oppose are quietly silenced."

A wry smirk formed on the Danshitie native's face. "Through fear? Hardly. Our tactics were harsh to outsiders, but one has to recognize the uniqueness of the situation. We knew our limits, and while your very own Empire lauded strength through fear, we both know the old adage, about holding on too tightly to things you really want."

Mara nodded wondering whether to respond to the slight jab at her past, "They'll slip through your fingers. Chief of State Organa Solo said that to Grand Moff Tarkin when she was being held on the first Death Star. At the time, the Emperor and the higher level Imperials laughed at her perceived bluster, but after Yavin, many realized that a military presence and the toppling of legitimate governments for human Imperial authority was not going to keep the galaxy stable. Under the Emperor, a real dictator, might I add, things were not likely to change.

"Citizen Representative Esperenza, did you try talking to the Monarchs? At what point did your fight become against Valdet rather than a call for reform? From my point of view, Iker Rafagr's attempts to unify the opposition for sovereignty and independent governments resulted in driving a greater wedge between your planets. If you really want what is best for your people, unlimited extermination is not the answer, and neither is this show of dialogue. There needs to be real communication, not just between you and De-facto leader of Valdet Arran, but also between the people—who might I point out—may have a very different point of view than you are expecting."

Koi stood up slowly, understanding the words, but either ignored or refused to accept what the Jedi alluded to. "The problem now is, with the military curfew, and rule in place at the moment, we really do not have any procedure on where to go from here. The tentative peace that Sian and I drew up was due to the news that Iker Rafgr was alive, a piece of information that only Sian and I know. We both only have enough influence on our groups to hold that in place, not to dictate what happens next. Despite our earlier arrogance, we both realize that our hatred was enough to allow an outsider to control us, and while we both hold that separate governance is what we prefer, we cannot pretend that it will only occur if we work together. "

Mara followed her cue and stood, "Despite being asked here by His Highness Romani, I do want to help. But remember, I will not choose sides or decide for you what is best for your planets. If need be I can mediate disputes, but I cannot fight your battles. If requested, I shall consider departing, but where I go from here is only up to me." She paused, "In response to your earlier question about responsibility. We are all responsible for our actions. As sentient beings, we make mistakes and often choose unwisely. I have made mistakes when I served the Empire that have yet to be atoned for—because even with orders, or following a charismatic leader, there is a level of personal accountability.

Whatever you choose, whatever you decide, it is _your_ decision, _your_ action that have brought you to this point. Do not hide behind orders, or a martyr's shroud. He may not be dead, but many others who trusted in you are."

Koi Esperenza watched her leave the room. The moment the door closed, she stabbed at her comm, "Get me Sian, tell him we need people to watch the Jedi."

xxxxxxxxxx

The acrid smoke from the aerial bombardment still hung around the edges of Valdet's atmosphere; making her eyes water every time she exited one of the buildings. After only a week and a half Mara had come to the conclusion that while the two faction leaders, Citizen Representative Arran and Esperenza, had come to an understanding the rest of the opposition needed some convincing. Already there were fractures within the groups, between those who lacked the discipline to stand their ground, and those whose fanatical hatred of the other planet, making middle ground virtually invisible.

She still didn't understand what role she was to play in the larger picture.

Her last trip to Valdet with Corran and Mirax, had been nearly a year ago, and after barely three standard hours, enough for them to ascertain that Tristan's sister, Anian, was not on planet, the three of them had left feeling the suffocation of being recognizable figures. This was a region where, isolated from the galactic realm, the only news came from off-world rookie newscasters whose sole purpose was to read news that was nearly three weeks old.

Valdet was no longer suffocating. Rather the populace's attention was on more important things, struggling to work with a teetering infrastructure that lacked the strength to withstand any more pressure.

For now, Mara was impartial, standing for a long-lasting peace instead of a ceasefire. She had been filled in on the events of the past six months, slowly piecing together the last moments of Tristan and Elbereth Romani before the palace was destroyed. While she felt the solemnity of the Citizen Representatives when they spoke of Elbereth's illness, Mara could not sense sincerity. She listened with curiosity as they talked of Iker Rafagr, the martyr whose death served as a flashpoint for more violence in the long running civil war between Valdet and Danshitie. The passionate defense and attachment to this man troubled her, because a single person's dedicated vision, presented the way his was had to be flawed.

Mara knew from experience that there was no one perfect Utopia, rather that a galaxy and a people could find peace in many different ways, and for two groups to come together after decades of wanting mutual destruction of the other seemed suspicious.

After leaving Koi Esperenza's office, the former Emperor's Hand chose to walk around Valdet City and get to know her surroundings, to regain her footing and obtain a new perspective through non-political eyes. Her restlessness from the last few days had continued, and she knew it was because of her last conversation with Luke.

_The Force has willed it, and I shall try to follow; but remember you aren't alone. When it wants its will heard, the Force shall guide you. _

_These are your trials._

Mara remembered being mildly surprised as the ship made the jump to lightspeed.

_These are your trials._ It had not come from Luke, but rather a quiet addendum by the Force. Her trials. Mara was already a Jedi Knight something she had earned on Nirauan, but had not, considered herself a true master. She recalled, not soon after finding out about Luke's promotion to the rank of Jedi Master, questioning its validity; since her own title manifested itself not long after the visit to the remains of the Outbound Flight Project, she had felt almost dishonest whenever she was addressed. Consequently, the idea of having trials for mastery as well as knighthood made some sort of vague sense; so while she did not mind the message, it was the timing that unsettled her.

Was the message's arrival, right after Luke's reassurance that the Force would guide her, a portent?

When the crucial moment arrived would she have support, or would the Force leave her to her own devices?

She suppressed a grimace. _No pressure…_ Taking in her surroundings she found herself across the street from the rubble of the Royal Palace, where large signs in Basic warned passersby of unsafe conditions. Originally constructed of rusted sandstone, all that remained of the palatial complex was a deep pit consisting of twisted synthetic metal girders, large chunks of marble and beams of wood, that splintered when the columns in the main archway slammed against the vaulted ceiling. She could feel the resonance of surprise and fear, remembering that somewhere beneath this rubble laid the bodies of two hundred guards, servants and a combination of major and minor officials whose offices and in some cases living quarters had been located here.

Watching with a sense of detached sorrow, Mara understood that those who had lost someone here would feel a psychic scar that once the physical remains had been removed, would remain in their memory for the rest of their lives. Standing where she was, she could see a houseplant, scraps of fabric, and a single chair, whose gilt, despite the dirt, reflected beams of sunlight. It was perhaps all that remained of Tristan and Elbereth's home. Moving closer she stretched out her senses, trying to find vestiges of the palace's former occupants. Initially, she could not distinguish their individual presences from the others, but as she widened her search, there was a feeling of desperation that she recognized from her visions. Desperation linked to a presence that she recognized, in part, due to its similarity to his sister-Anian Romani.

Taking a few steps to the right she followed Tristan's despair and moved further into the business district of the city. In an almost surreal trip, it led her into a dank and empty warehouse where circular light panels dropped from the ceiling, lighting up the windowless building with circles of illumination.

And as she stepped inside, she realized she was being followed.

Ducking behind a pillar, Mara waited, sensing the presence grow closer and closer. Without a sound, she slipped her forearm blaster into her hand and set it to stun. Listening intently, waiting for the individual to make their move, she gazed at the floor, taking in the larger footprints that her shoes were filling. Covered with a thin layer of new dust, they were a few weeks old and appeared to belong to someone male and tall. Glancing in the direction the shoes were pointing, she had a sudden suspicion.

The footprints were directed towards one of the circles of light, one that bounced against a few of the taller piles, creating shadows ideal for a hiding place. At the base of one of the larger crates, there was a smudge, which was once again covered with a thinner and darker layer of dust that indicated someone had lain there. There was another, smaller pair of footprints next to it. Even though most of the dust had been scuffed by wild rodents, Mara knew that this was where Elbereth had died. It was in the air.

The sadness and muted sorrow of two people was striking._ Who was that second person?_ Unfortunately,_ b_efore she could sense what direction they had gone, her shadow released a flash of unexpected terror and Mara's danger sense tingled. Instinctively, she leapt from her hiding place and sprinted to the warehouse door, identifying three other presences in the alleyway before wrenching open the heavy panel.

Her shadow, a woman no older than twenty-five, faced three men, all of which were dressed in tatters, in stark contrast to their victim whose tailored clothes under her cloak indicated a level of affluence. As Mara watched, the three men spread out into a classic surround, intimidate and steal tactic, two with their backs towards the warehouse, the third at an angle, keeping a wary eye on the surroundings.

"Come on Miss, give us your money." His voice was high and squeaky, but with enough snarl to intimidate someone smaller than him.

Firmly, with no outward indication of the fear that was emanating through the Force, the woman stared the man down. "No."

Peering through the din at the woman's face, there was an imperceptible moment where her focus flickered towards Mara before smoothly returning to her captor. Taking the non-verbal cue Mara wrapping her own cloak around her, and faded into the shadows. She slowly moved along the wall towards the group.

The man to the woman's right taunted her, "No? Ah well we don't like that answer. Either you give us your money, or we'll give you this." He raised his blaster, thumping it against his thigh.

The woman blinked, and remained silent, with an almost bored expression on her face.

The third guy shifted, and to keep his attention from the direction Mara was skulking the girl turned to him and said snidely, "What's your threat?" He faced her.

"No threat, I just like looking at pretty things." He was soft, low voiced. "Especially pretty things that glitter." He sent a knowing glance at the ring on her finger.

His high pitch turning whiny, the first thief grunted, "Forget this, we don't have time to waste. Just take her money, get rid of her and let's go." He moved quickly forward to grab the woman's left arm, but Mara was faster. Setting her blaster sights, she snapped off a shot not watching as the he crumpled to the ground. Quickly dispatching blaster man, she turned to deal with the third and was impressed to find him out cold at his captor's feet.

Mara nodded and stepped cautiously out of the shadows where she had been hiding. Looking the girl over she casually asked, making sure to keep her blaster low, but at a ready position. "Everything alright?"

The woman nodded. "Yes."

"Do you want to explain why you were following me?"

The surprise from the girl was muted, considering she obviously knew that Mara was a Jedi. Warily she moved closer, and put out her hand. "Isabelita Faience. I'm sorry about all this," She waved her hand at the alleyway, "but I was not sure how to approach you." Her speech betrayed her as a native Danshitie, while it was clear she was dressing like the Valdet middle class to avoid attention.

Mara accepted her hand, sensing no deception, "Mara Jade--"

Isabelita finished "Skywalker. I know." She hesitated, and glanced back at the three prone forms. "Thank you for your help."

"I'm not sure if you needed it."

"Oh I did, despite how it appeared, my combat skills have been…unpracticed for about a year. I also needed a distraction. There was no way I could have taken down all three without getting shot." She smiled, "Not all of us can have Jedi reflexes." Isabelita took in the older woman before her, noting the less-than patient expression on her beautiful face and sighed, "I have a proposition for you, one that will change the way you mediate this dispute." Looking straight at her with as much determination as she could muster, she went on. "There's something you need to know in order to understand what happened here, something that will make you fully understand why Citizen Representatives like Esperenza and Arran were so easily swayed by Iker Rafagr, why they were willing to put aside their differences and perpetuate these atrocities destroying a chance that this system had been waiting for, for a long time. "

Pausing, she took a deep breath, and Mara noted that it was almost as if her life depended on it. "I want you to come to Danshitie."

xxxxxxxxxx

**En Route to Coruscant from Anobis**

After retrieving his wife's speech from the storage locker in the crew's cabin, Han Solo squeezed past Anakin, who had just left the forward cargo hold, and ruffled his hair with affection. Han Solo knew his son, and was fairly sure that Anakin was headed towards the galley where Leia had stocked his favorite foods.

Striding past the main engineering console Han nodded to Kyp and Streen who were looking over the specs of their next assignment, trying to come up with what final questions they had to ask Luke before they headed out again.

For a brief moment he took in Jedi Knight Kyp Durron, a young man, almost like a third son, who had grown quite a bit since their last meeting. He was leaning over the holographic table, clad in the classic Jedi tunic, his green eyes focused and full of the wisdom cultivated through his experiences since his exit from the spice mines of Kessel. Han recognized in him the poise, and cocky arrogance of his own youth and smiled. Probably sensing the scrutiny through the Force, Kyp looked up, and a feeling of mutual experience passed through them before Han continued on to the relative isolation of the cockpit.

Settling in to his pilot's chair, Han closed his eyes. He loved his life, his family. With Chewbacca by his side, he had never feared much, and to some extent believed that there was a skein of invincibility over his family and friends that no enemy would permeate. But, as always, there were new worries, ones that he had never had to think about, and with his children growing up, these new thoughts surprised him. First of all, seeing the former bounty hunter Czetheros, and the following sabotage of the Blockade Runners Derby course, had caused him to rethink his decision to leave his blaster on the Millennium Falcon. A decision that had been precipitated by his effort to be less suspicious, less paranoid of long term peace.

He thought of the young woman, Anja Gallandro whom they had met on Ord Mantell, his mind going back to her accusations about his role in her fathers death, an event he had long since ceased to think about. In his youth it had never occurred to him that Gallandro might have had children, or even a family to take care of, and some part of him regretted the events from time passed.

Han's own children had open hearts, a characteristic that he suspected came from their mother's side that taught them to help everyone in need. So, in trying to help a wayward girl, Han, the young Jedi Knights and the _Falcon_ had taken a detour making what had started out as a simple diplomatic trip to Ord Mantell into a longer mission of aid. The past few weeks working to stop the civil war on Anja's home planet of Anobis had fully revealed to him Jacen, Jaina and Anakin's intelligence and empathy for the plight of those whose desperation caused them to react in unexpected ways. For the first time in his life, Han Solo realized that his kids no longer needed him-- and that worried him.

What also plagued him today was his remembrance of the look in Jacen's face after they talked about Anja's father's death. It was a look that revealed a dispersion of naiveté. It was not as if he had kept his past hidden from his kids, but he recognized that to some extent they held him up to a higher pedestal than most, on a hero's standard. Having been born after the Rebellion, they could not fully understand how hero's came in all shapes and sizes, and were often shoved into the role by fate. Han had never had to worry about their future, about who they would become because as Jedi, they were automatically on that path, probably never realizing how their actions would shape their images. Images that had already been solidified after their work with the Shadow Academy and the Diversity Alliance.

Staring at the console in front of him Han caught his reflection in the cockpit window. He frowned at the gray, and smiled at the scars. Nothing had changed, everything had changed, and he was better for it. Now as Leia put in motion changes that would set the Solo's on the next phase of their lives, he was fully prepared to embrace whatever came their way.

xxxxx

**Coruscant**

As secret meetings went, this one was fairly open ended. The room was in a public venue, where anyone could walk in and every shade on every window was flung open allowing equal access to any adventurous sludge news reporter looking for wayward images of governmental officials.

But that had been their intention all along. According to the official schedule, the group was gathering for an office strategy session regarding an up and coming appropriations fight in the Senate. So naturally there was nothing to hide, and for appearances sake they wanted it to remain so. For Borsk Fey'lya and his entourage, image was everything.

Of course they weren't really meeting about the appropriations bill, after all, the plans for that had been set in stone months ago. The real topic of conversation this afternoon, was something that was a carefully guarded secret, and though there had been whispers at low levels, they had been quickly hushed and disproved. In order to prevent another rash of rumors, Borsk had personally invited a few close officials and senator friends for special input.

He surveyed the occupants on the uniquely oval table and nodded. Here were his most loyal supporters, those who would decide for him whether the course he was plotting was plausible and realistic, because though he was ambitious he had been in politics long enough to know that there was no use sticking his neck out if it was not necessary.

One of his aides, a short, stocky human leaned over, "Sir, we're just waiting on--" He stopped as the last senator slipped into the room. "Everyone is here sir."

"Thank you, if you could keep watch as we discussed. " Borsk waited until the human had stepped outside the room before beginning.

"Gentle beings. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me. I am aware that you are all beings of honor, and intelligence and I have come to you with a serious problem, one that I believe shall determine the course of the galaxy for many years to come." He glanced around the table making eye contact with each individual at the table including the Senators from Rodia, and Kuat, a freshman senator from Bothuwaii, as well as two highly placed ministers of communications and finance. He could see the curiosity in their eyes, the beginnings of understanding. As he spoke, he opened his claws, one by one.

"We are all in danger, and that danger comes in the form of one individual who could, if she so chose, threaten the fundamental freedoms that the New Republic has been built upon. True, this individual has worked her life to secure many of these such freedoms, but in the current political climate--where our focus should be on building up the economy, intra and interplanetary trade, and other issues in our peacetime infrastructure, we are in much danger of falling prey to her paranoia and insecurities." He withdrew his claws, opening his paws, palm up on the table in a gesture of openness.

"It is time to get rid of the old guard, and open up our doors to innovation and new blood. The New Republic has stepped out of the era of war, death and bloodshed, and it needs a leader who can lead this galaxy out of the past, and into a stronger future." He flipped over both his paws, slammed them onto the counter, pulling himself up while keeping his audience entranced. Now, he began walking around the table, taking position behind each chair, keeping them at unease. "I believe you know what I am referring to, if you think as I do, please speak up--and if you disagree, let me know why this is not the path that we should follow.

Before I leave this room today a decision must be made, the right decision. For as you all know this danger will not go away unless slapped down. So we must be strong, we must fight, and we must destroy Leia Organa Solo, or else."

xxxxxxxxxx

**Thyferra**

Nestor took in the night, gazing at the expansive cityscape, while content to remain alone in his thoughts. He ached for the deep rose covered peaks of the Al'orian's, struggling to adjust to this thriving suffocating metropolis, where the climate made it difficult for him to capture a breath due to the humidity.

Tristan was in bacta therapy and while he had yet to resort to whining, Nestor could see and hear his silent accusations--all being hurled into the vacant expanse of tension between the former ruler and bodyguard. It was understood, in the short hours since surfacing from his coma, and despite his medical training, that Tristan believed Nestor to be at fault for the events of the past few weeks. He had said, in so many words, that Nestor should have abandoned his charge, should have abandoned Tristan, to death just to ensure that Iker did not get away.

To do so would be a betrayal of a lifetime. How could Nestor ever just walk away?

Now the trail was cold, and there was no hope of identifying where or how their enemy had made it off planet, or even if he was off planet. In a galaxy of trillions changing your identity was as easy as deciding what to eat for the mid-day meal.

So, it seemed, that the new Tristan was here to stay, and the man Nestor had been proud to protect, a man he believed was his friend, was lost.

"Elbereth, what shall I do?" He whispered--looking for answers in the promises she had left behind.

A soft voice, distinct, responded, questioning. "About what?"

Nestor turned to see the pretty doctor examining him with clear concern. "Mr. Alluvia, I'm about to go home for the evening, is there anything I can get you?" As she approached the railing, Nestor notice black card, paper thin, peeking out of the shallow pockets of her lab coat. It seemed so unnatural against her pale-soothing hospital coat.

He turned with her to face the lights, and softly answered. "No, m'lady, Thank You m'lady."

Startled she faced him and placing her small hands on the side of his broad shoulder, causing him to turn from growing unease. "Listen. Today was hard, but not atypical. Not many coma victims with head injuries like your cousins survive to be fully functional, therefore it is natural that there be some hostility and disorientation, especially in regards to the time discontinuity. For them it is as if they just went to sleep and woke up the next day only to find out that weeks, or even decades of their life has passed them by. "

Nestor could not tell her that Tristan's behavior had started before the accident. The younger man was only seven years his junior, but having spent his youth with the weight of the galaxy on his shoulder, his face lacked the youthful appearance of someone who had just celebrated his 30th birthday.

"Dr. Stanton!" They both turned towards the lounge doors to see a young tech holding out a black card, similar to the one that Nestor had seen earlier.

"Yes?" She asked, her voice losing any softness it had a moment before. Nestor glanced at her again, this time noting the hard lines along her eyes and mouth.

"This was just delivered to your desk. "

The doctor shifted her weight nervously, "Did you see who delivered it?" Her tone was inquisitive, worried.

"No, I went in to pick up the charts, and a delivery guy handed it to me." He held the card out to her again.

Taking it, Keladry frowned, carefully placing it unopened in her pocket with the other one.

"Thank you, "almost as an afterthought she added. "If you see Dr. Mendel, tell him I'll be in early to help with the 7:30."

"Yes, Doctor." He turned and walked down the corridor.

She turned back toward Nestor, suddenly agitated and needing to leave the hospital as quickly as possible. "If you have any questions, I will be in early. "

He nodded slowly, not wanting to pry, and extended his hand in farewell. "Thank you doctor for your kind words. I'm confidant that my cousin is in good care."

For a moment she forgot her personal worries and squeezed his hand. "Remember, it gets better from here, just give it some time. Everything will be all right."

xxxxxxxxxx

From where he stood down the corridor, he watched as the young tech delivered his card to her. He smiled to himself as she exited the lounge a moment later. He knew she would wait until she was in control of her surroundings before she opened his new letter.

Humming softly under his breath, he pretended to be looking at a holomap of the hospital as she walked by, and for a moment, just a moment he could smell her scent, that combination of water lilies and spice all mixed together in a beautiful package.

It was always good to make her happy with a message at the end of the long day. It would probably help her sleep better knowing that he was there to watch over her.

He would always be there to watch over her.

**End Post 2**

**Credit: All of this post is mine, but there are specific references to things from the YJK books. (The Blockade Runner's ****Derby**** reference, the events on Anobis) **


	5. YJK Arc III Book 2 Summary

**Summary of YJK Arc ****III****: The Black Sun Trilogy**

**Trouble at ****Cloud****City**

The book starts out with a scene that I do a POV/extension of in Post 3.2 where basically Jaina, Tenel Ka, Lowbacca go to meet Raynar and Lusa for a swim—they're disappointed that Zekk and Jacen chose to hang out with Anja Gallandro instead. While she lacks Force powers (aka not a Jedi, despite the lightsaber) Luke decides that she can stay as a special favor to Han. It is obvious that both Tenel Ka and Jaina are not ...happy with the lack of attention they are getting from both boys.

Lando arrives and invites the kids to Bespin where he and a friend, Cojahn are investing in an amusement park called SkyCenter Galleria. They all decide to go and take Anja along. The girl has a huge chip on her shoulder, she doesn't like Han, wants to hate the YJK and goes out of her way to be rude to Lando and Jaina. It is only after Jacen tells her to try that she makes an attempt at being civil. When the group arrives at Cloud City they find that Cojahn has been killed, the cause a perceived suicide.

Disheartened by this tragedy, Lando takes the kids through some of the rides, and than agrees to let the YJK investigate. They observe some Thranta's, bird-like beasts from Alderaan, who perform acrobatics with riders in the clouds before retiring for the night. The next morning the group meets, and Anja is late. Lando casually comments how she shows tell-tale signs of someone abusing Andris Spice. She storms off after the group confronts her—after confirming the suspicion.

On Ord Mantell we find out more of Czetheros' plan. We learn that he was involved with the arms supplying on Anobis (unbeknownst to Anja) and he's annoyed that she hasn't dealt with the Solo family yet. He thinks about the various areas where he has installed Black Sun's slimy fingers: Spice, Arms dealers, gambling—and in place to cause unrest on many planets. He decides that he must eliminate the Solo twins and places the order accordingly.

On Cloud City after some digging the YJK/Lando find out that Cojahn booked a band—Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes, who started and then abruptly disappeared the day of Cojahn's death. Lando, Jaina and Zekk go off to Clak'dor VII (the Bith homeworld) to look for the band. Before they leave, Anja comes and apologizes (she's had a chance to take another dose of Andris). On Clak'dor VIII the group finds out that Cojahn's death wasn't a suicide, he was being threatened by the Black Sun who is very much a presence on Bespin.

Meanwhile, Lowbacca, Jacen and Tenel Ka are following leads of their own. After messing around for some time they follow a mysterious Ugnaught—at first Anja is with them but then she leaves, confused and needing more spice. In the search for answers Lowbacca, Jacen, and Tenel Ka, find themselves entangled in the underlevels of Cloud City and in a fight in an area similar to the ESB scene they get dropped into one of the trash dumps. Lowbacca grabs one of the antenna to stop them from falling and manages to grab Tenel Ka's arm. But as she doesn't have another arm to grab Jacen she tries to catch him with her leg, only to watch with horror as his sweat slicked hands cannot find purchase. He plunges into the mists beneath the city...Thinking him dead, Lowbacca and Tenel Ka (who has some very well written passages about her feelings and how much Jacen's friendship meant to her) stumble grief stricken and injured to Anja (another one of my POV changes that you see is based on their meeting of Anja after their near death experience).

Jacen, on the other hand falls for a long time (apparently tries to contact Jaina/TK but can't focus enough to do this—another sign of his needing practice still!) but is rescued by a Thranta rider named M'kim who gives another POV of Cojahn's death, basically saying it was not a suicide. He was unable to reach Cojahn in time to save him, but saw the killers—one of which was a man with green hair and a red optical eye (Czetheros!). Quickly he goes back and is reunited with Tenel Ka (who for once is tres emotional and runs and hugs him with joy (can you tell I'm a TK/J fan?), Lowbacca, and Anja and the group from the Bith's homeworld. They find out that Czetheros had the security cameras doctored to hide his presence on Cloud City.

What follows is another attempt by Czetheros to kill the YJK (Anja went to him to warn him to be careful, and to beg for more spice which he says she'll get later.) There's this huge fight where Anja changes her mind and fights with them. TK and Jacen fly around on thranta's to escape and end up having to fight some of the velkers (predators of C. City). In the end everyone comes out unscathed.

Another POV scene that I added/extended the beginning to is near the end where the group recoups after the fight by watching the Thranta show. They go back to Yavin IV where they find out that Czetheros has disappeared, and Anja is forced to reevaluate her life choices. Does she really care about Gallandro's murderer when she had never met her father in the first place? Also cut off from her spice source she is moody, isolated and refuses company. So this book ends with a closer idea of the Black Sun's existence, and a very, very confused Anja Gallandro.


	6. Post 3

**Make sure to read the YJK Summary...it will help to understand the timing and pacing of this story as well as the YJK POV changes.**

**Post 3**

**Jedi****Temple**

**Coruscant**

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Luke looked over his desk at his twin, gauging her emotions through the Force.

Confident now that this was her path Leia nodded. "It is time. I want to see my children while I still can, without having to schedule it between meetings and events. In the past six months the things I've learned about them have come to me from other sources, before I had a chance to see them. "

Luke understood, since in the last few years he had spent more time with his niece and nephews than Leia had. "What they accomplished at Anobis these past few weeks was unexpected. "

His sister nodded, and a feeling of pride washed over both of them. Knowing it was response enough she gestured towards the data pad lying between them on the desk. "So, what do you think?"

Glancing down, Luke toggled a few keys before passing it over. "It's good Leia, very good. There are a few things I thought were unclear, but you have always been a good writer, and public speaker, so there wasn't much I could find fault with." He paused, "Thank you for that section about Father."

Grasping his hand Leia squeezed. "He is a part of my life, a part of our life. I felt it was only right…" They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Leia stood up, preparing to leave. "Thank you Luke, I know you needed to get back."

He smiled, "Without Mara, I like to keep myself busy. Lately she's been having more adventures than me. But I always have time to see my sister, especially when I usually have to make an appointment just to have lunch with her."

A level of amusement passed across her face. "You know, Luke Skywalker, I practically had to make an appointment to see _you_. What with all the Jedi that were standing outside waiting to be seen. Han told me Kyp and Streen were leaving this afternoon for another mission. I think that you've finally followed Mon Mothma's advice and expanded your talents into a completely new sphere of influence…"

Luke raised his hands as if blocking her words. "No, please, don't say it. "

"You've turned into a diplomat." She grinned, "She'll be happy to hear it when I see her on Chandrila."

The Jedi Master shook his head, not entirely chagrined. "As much as I would like to deny it, I have. " He stood up and examined his sister's face, nearing fifty with some gray and some small wrinkles around her eyes, knowing that his reflection was almost a matching image.

"We have come a long way, and who would have thought that we would be standing here, I with the Jedi Order thriving, and you about to step down from your role as-"

Leia shushed him, "Shhh. There are ears everywhere."

Luke's expression turned wary. "Leia, I would know if this area was bugged. You really are determined to keep this quiet aren't you?"

She shrugged. "There's no need sending the government into a panic before I leave. You know how paranoid the bureaucrats are, and it never hurts to be too careful." There was a slight hesitation before she continued, "Besides, I'm certain that the honorable Bothan Senator has something up his sleeve, and I do not want to give him any more ammunition than I have already given him"

Luke blinked, "The Duros shipping incident?"

She nodded, "I do not know how he managed to twist my words from the meeting, but it is enough that were I looking for reelection, I could have some hard questions coming my way." Musing, her voice turned sarcastic, "Imagine, I want a closed, anonymous vote on a shipping bill because I am trying to provide shelter for my proponents. Trying to hide my underhanded scheming tactics. "

More rueful now Leia smiled, "The most important thing for me at this juncture is to make sure that my decision looks like it was _my decision_, not an idea that was forced on me because I was intimidated by a nasty Bothan. I know one never really leaves politics, and I want to still have whatever support I need if it becomes necessary." There was a certain amount of earnestness in her voice, marked by a tinge of annoyance which she quickly banished as she continued.

"Which brings me to my second request, which I almost forgot." She pulled her lightsaber out from under the slim mid-thigh jacket she was wearing. "Once this is all finished I want to brush up on my training, maybe spar with your wife a little."

She could feel Luke's presence dampen a little, his shields covering most of his worry, and watched as he came around his desk to stand next to her.

He sighed, "I'm not sure when Mara will be back."

Leia squeezed his arm in sympathy, "That's all right, but when she does, show her the speech. I want to know her thoughts on the matter." She caught sight of the chrono on the wall. "Times up, I have to go talk with a Kuar senator about mining licenses."

Shrugging she hugged him and made her way towards the door. "Luke, I want you to know that…well…thank you. Have a good trip back, give my children my love."

"May the Force be With You, Leia." Luke sent her a farewell through the Force.

She turned around, her smile bright, "And you Luke, and you."

xxxxxx

**Thyferra**

_Give it time._

Cynically laughing at her words from two weeks ago, Keladry fumed as she walked towards the doctor's lounge. Just steps away from the door she felt her spirits brighten as her nose smelled the fresh pot of caf waiting for her. This had been two of the most trying weeks of her life.

Tristan Romani was by far _the worst_ patient she had ever had to care for. He thought of nothing but his departure from the med center, which ordinarily Keladry would admire for its sheer perseverance and stubbornness. Unfortunately, combined with his sullen moods which held a subtext of white-hot anger, his behavior was unconscionable. He would hassle everyone from the bacta tech, to the nurses, with never a thank-you or a kind word for their part in saving his life. Together with his outward pride and arrogance, it was a combination that was less than appealing.

She had other patients with one or even two of the described characteristics, but he was just so…disagreeable, that after her second visit with him, she just dreaded her morning rounds, always leaving him for last. To be honest, they were letting him go early, with the caveat that Nestor bring him in for out-patient consultations. The doctor in her wondered just how this man was ever allowed to treat patients, while the civilized being in her pitied Nestor and wondered how this man- cousin, or not, could sit there day in and day out as this proud human railed against his every word.

"Dr. Stanton!" She hesitated and eyed the door covertly, wondering if she could ignore the summons for a minute, but found herself, by habit, turning, all smiles, toward the speaker.

"Yes, Illghazi?"

"Menin Lyrian is back. This time he swears that it was an accidental blaster discharge that caused the burns. Do you want me to admit him? "

_Menin__ Lyrian, _She grimaced. He was one of the regulars, the one who somehow managed to burn himself every week, like clockwork. So far all of them had been minor, but she was sure that his extracurricular activities were going to send him here for a far more serious injury in due course. Send him up to the burn ward and tell them to give him a small taste of the tank, because unless he changes his free time hobbies we cannot waste anymore bacta on him, especially someone who enjoys being stunned for fun." _Ridiculous!_

The tech smiled. "So give him some bacta patches?"

Sighing, "Yes, but minimal pain killers, numbing the pain is not going to teach him anything, plus we don't want to give him an addiction." There was a movement from the corner of her eye, and she could smell the flowers before she saw them.

Struggling to keep her voice upbeat she looked at the delivery man who she now knew by name. "J'nal, how nice to see you. Please tell me those aren't for me."

He nodded. "Yep, and the boss told me to tell you that they're working on it."

"Thank him for me." _They had been working on it for the past year and a half. _Something in her face must have betrayed her, and J'nal gave her a sympathetic look.

"Don't worry, just imagine that I sent the flowers to you."

Kel could not help but smile, "I wish." Waving good bye she turned back and almost made it to the door when she heard her name being called. Turning, the expression on her face was pained. "What does a doctor have to do around here to get some decent caf in the morning…"

It was Illghazi again. "Sorry, uh..I have the usual request from Mr.Romani. He would like to know..."

"...when the recalcitrant, waste of existence doctor will let him leave the hospital?" Every two hours, as if he did not already know the answer..._Who's he calling stubborn!_ Irritated with herself for letting him get to her, Keladry winced. "...and as usual my reply is…when I"

"...say so." he finished for her, thanked her and walked slowly away. Watching him Kel groaned to herself. If she had her way she would have let Illghazi tell Tristan Romani the news. She would prefer to not see him ever again...but then what type of doctor would she be? It was her duty, and she would see it through.

As Keladry finally made her way through the door, flowers in hand, she realized that the rich aroma of caf was punctuated by the sweet smell of freshly baked goods. Bounding through the door her hand with the flowers dropped to her side, momentarily forgotten, before she started giggling.

"I am going to miss every single one of you," she squealed, trying not to sound like a teenager. Behind her Illghazi slipped through the door. "Remind me again why I'm leaving all of you for endless deserts and rainless nights?"

All of you was of course, her friends, and coworkers at Xucphera. She hugged Minali first, a short Corellian nurse whose hair, which was highlighted green this cycle, accentuated the newly painted Gundark tattoo on her collerbone. Next, Natir and Illghazi the married couple who chose to have the same shift so that they could always sleep in the same bed together. Both were even tempered Rodians, Natir with amazing eyes, that lit up anytime she learned something new, while Illghazi always made Keladry's day a little better just by smiling at her.

On the far side of the wall was Dr. Ignace, a somber male whose moods varied based on the news of the day; if his wife had agreed to move to Xcuphera he was happy, excited, but when he was somber, like today, the entire staff understood that she had once again, made her excuses.

Minali grinned. "I know how you like fresh Bieman's goods in the morning, we've noticed how stressed you've been so you'll have fresh caf and your favorites until you leave. We even got you a special cake…because Natir let the news slip that your favorite patient would be leaving us today." She watched as Illghazi lit the candles and then propped open the door to let the air circulate as the lounge fire sensors often malfunctioned.

Keladry's smile blew away, and she absently watched the people pass by. "Yes, thank the Force he will be. " Patting her friend's shoulder she shrugged, "but then again, I will be gone soon to."

"Not for long, just for a year or two, and we can always come visit."

Natir came over with her often amused, and chuckling voice, and handed her a cup of caf. "Yes, and in a few weeks time we shall be welcoming the newest member of the New Republic Emergency Medical Aide Team." She looked down at the flowers in Keladry's hands, and whistled, "Oooh, you got another message from your friend? I wonder does he know you will soon be leaving and that your love shall never be, or do you think he will reveal himself?"

"Whoa, Whoa!" Mina, as she was often called, raised her palms. "Stop the rapid fire! " Just as interested, she turned towards Keladry, "So, Kel, what do you think? Any more clues?"

She struggled to keep her spirits upbeat, taking a sip of her caf, feeling better the minute it washed down her throat. "No nothing new, but the flowers are welcome." _Welcome to stop coming,_ she amended bitterly. The only people who knew about the new tone these messages and presents had taken was the delivery company, and the local security detail that had been working for a year and half to catch her stalker. For a while he had dropped off, disappeared, before beginning again recently, and Keladry Stanton hoped that her new job with the NREMAT would stop them entirely. The feeling of insecurity did, after all, have a large influence on her decision to leave Thyferra.

Consequently, in order to keep her friends from hovering, to allow him to have _his_ sense of security, he was a secret admirer, one too shy to reveal himself. All of this because she refused to allow people to worry about her-this guy had already toyed with her emotions and there was no use in allowing him to mess with her loved ones.

When her chrono beeped, reminding her of the time, Keladry gulped down her caf, and tossed it into the trash receptacle. "I'll be back for the cake, I love you guys. Now I have to go inform a sorry excuse for a human being that he can finally leave this hospital, making us all enjoy life a little more."

As she stepped out of the room she glanced down the hallway and froze, recognizing the slow, retreating back of Nestor Alluvia a few feet away. From the way his back was hunched over, she knew, without a doubt, that he had heard her words just now.

_As if my day could get any worse._She felt bad that Nestor had overheard, but he had to know after being around the hospital for over a month how the staff felt, especially when someone spent most of his time here. Despite her brave words she now felt a feeling of disquiet and took the slower, longer way to Mr. Romani's room, taking time in the cafeteria to pick up some water and check in with other patients along the way.

As had occurred, many, many times before she could hear the irate man's voice before she reached the door. Instead of ignoring him or waiting for him to complete his yelling, she stood outside and listened, feeling a tinge of apprehension at eavesdropping.

"You let him get away. You should have followed him, found out where he was before he could get off planet. _Do Something._ I obviously can't having been confined to this prison by that useless excuse for a doctor. I had the same training and I know that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I worked in this hospital, for sith's sake, and either procedure has changed or that greedy, harpy…"

Surprised, Keladry moved closer, careful not to make a sound.

As always, Nestor's calmer voice intervened before his cousin could go further, completely aware, unlike Mr. Romani whose rage created blinders, that their words could be heard beyond the confines of the room. "Doctor. I am here for your protection, and only when you are ready to walk out this door, will I leave. To leave without you, not knowing whether you had lived or died would have been a scar on your wife's memory, a slight against my duty. Your High-"

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT. " Tristan roared.

From where she stood, the silence was burning, smoldering and even she could feel the flames.

After what seemed like long time, Nestor inhaled. "Look at yourself, Tristan Romani. _Look_ at yourself. What would Elbereth think? When you are calm enough to understand what I am about to say to you, you will understand why I allowed you the time to heal." He didn't want to tell him what he had discovered yesterday, but he knew that it was the only way to convince Tristan that finding Iker was no longer their number one priority.

"Tristan, we have no money.

I have enough funds from before…which shall cover your bills and the berth for our ship, but not enough to send us on a wild chase across known and unknown space without information or clues. We are stuck on Thyferra, unless some miracle happens. Our money is gone, they have frozen the accounts, probably because the state needs it more, or perhaps because Esperenza and Arran have kept your survival a secret from the populace.

Whatever we do next, cannot be because of your quest. We will get him, if it takes us the rest of our lives to do it, but first we have to take care of ourselves. "

She strained her ears, trying to hear his words that were barely above a whisper.

_"It is more important that we survive." _

There was some shuffling, and then a reply that came from Tristan, half strangled half unfeeling. "Do. Not. Ever. Say. Her. Name. Again."

She heard Nestor respond, but it was quieter than the rest of the conversation. Keladry thought he said "as you wish," but before she could run the words through her mind his voice rose, clearer, directed towards the open doorway.

"Dr. Stanton." She jumped, her face afire at being caught. "Please come in and tell the doctor what he has been waiting to hear."

xxxxxx

**Danshitie**

Isabelita stood next to her husband, noting the tenseness in his jaw, the set way he stood as he searched the sky warily. She placed her palm on his forearm and squeezed lightly, whispering reassurance. "She's Jedi. She will help us."

He turned, taking in the crease in her forehead, the lines around her lids, his blue eyes shifting to pale violet as it did when he was thinking. He slowly chose his words, "I only worry about you. About how you have your Da's love for this planet, and have taught me to have pride in my heritage and tradition, to fight to make it stronger.

"I do not want you to get hurt."

At the thought of her adopted father Isabelita faltered, and absently she noticed the small ship skimming over the horizon. "I…I haven't heard from him since he left. I don't think I shall ever see him again."

Placing his arms on her shoulder, he stooped slightly so that he could look at her face to face. "You will see him. If I know Nestor Alluvia at all, he will not be able to stay away from the Al'lorian's for long. He knows his duty, but as soon as it is able, he will return." His thumb softly wiped away a tear that trailed down her face, ignoring the growing hum of an approaching vessel. "His heart his here, with the little girl he took in upon the death of your parents, here with his grandchild."

At the thought of their son Isabilita's heart grew warm. "I'm glad he was able to see Alden before…" She stopped as the noise from the landing Jedi's ship grew too loud for her to continue. After a few moments, she watched as Jedi Master Mara Jade Skywalker walked slowly down the ramp. It had taken more time than expected, but it appeared that the Jedi Master had been able to slip away from Sian Arran and Koi Esperenza's official representatives. It was imperative that this was kept quiet.

Stepping forward, she bowed to the Jedi in welcome. "Jedi Master Mara Jade Skywalker, thank you for coming. May I introduce my husband, Iralian Faience. "

Mara took a glance at the young man standing next to her contact and then looked closer. In his features she recognized the late Bran Morodin, but less hard and more sane. As he blinked, she was aware that where the younger Morodin, Illian, had eyes that were crystal blue in disgrace, this gentleman's iris's held some of the violet mark of the Morodin.

She glanced at her host questioningly, as far as she had been told, the Morodin family was entirely erased, Elbereth had been the last. "You have Morodin blood." It came out a statement.

Nodding, "My grandmother was the second, but not completely legitimate daughter of Elder Morodin, Elbereth's grandfather."

Mara took in the two of them and spoke quickly. "I was promised a few days, a week maximum to visit around the planet alone. I'm not sure if they will wait that long."

Iralian looked concerned. "Were you followed."

Her smile was feral, not entirely lacking in condescension but holding absolute certainty. "No, I was not."

Isabilita reached for her arm and guided her towards a waiting speeder. "Come. The others are waiting."

xxxxxx

They arrived at a small home, shingled like the Morodin palace, with rose stucco and neat green trim. Inside sat a small group of people, and as Isabelita walked into one of the two back rooms Iralian took the time to introduce Mara to the others. Two were former members of Tristan and Elbereth's Honor guard, individuals who Mara vaguely recognized as being a part of the insurgency against Bran Morodin.

The third member was a surprise. A Bith, he was dressed in official regal robes clasped by a special filigreed pin that she had heard Luke describe to her. "You are a New Republic Observer. "

He nodded. "Yes. But, as you are, I am an impartial witness to the changes occurring in this system."

Mara, sure he also worked for Arien Cracken, nodded. "As am I. Later, we shall talk of a mutual friend I believe we have. Hopefully you can share what you know." Before he could answer, Isabilita walked back in rocking a small half-sleeping child.

Iralian stared proudly, as most new fathers do, at the sleeping baby, "And this is our son, Alden"

Isabelita looked apologetic, "He has not been sleeping well, and he likes to hear me talk. So if you don't mind, I'd like to keep him here while I fill in Master Jade-Skywalker."

Mara noticed how all the men in the room deferred to her guidance, and Mara realized that Isablita was in fact the leader of this cell.

She began, softly at first, weaving together strands of time, explaining how the clan of the Morodin came to be. She recounted the mythology of the mark of the Morodin, how their ancestor clan, the Moror walked into the elusive jungle cave of the Al'lorians where a viable ecosystem existed exclusively from the rest of Danshitie. They had come hoping to find a way to achieve dominance, and the youngest of them Din'sal had led them to victory. "Din'sal, is the mother of the Morodin. She is the one who refused to sit and wait for the mystical glow rock to reveal its powers. Instead, while the rest of the clan slept, she unwrapped her bandaged hands, cut through the jungle hike, and placed them on either side of this object with the endless fascination of a child. For days afterward she was near death, and her parents promised their lives to the glowing rock if she survived." Isabelita brushed her hand against her son's head, perhaps understanding more so, Din'sal's parents motivation. She glanced at her husband who gave her a nod of encouragement before continuing.

"When she awoke from the fever, her eyes were the brilliant violet which has been passed down from generation to generation, placing the Morodin in charge of this world, and indefinitely indebted to the events of that cave. Her eyes spoke of knowledge that no other clan on Danshitie could claim, forever distinguishing us from them."

At this point she turned to face Mara directly, "The Morodin and the Romani have not always been at war. The reasons have long since disappeared, leaving behind the animosity bred in an endless cycle for over ten generations. What I know is that the Romani came to power in Valdet by natural grace. They were considered the wisest, the most knowledgeable, able to predict the next season's crop yield and were able to help sustain their life-blood. As with the Morodin their place in society became deeply rooted in tradition, making change difficult, and the assimilation of the outside world next to impossible.

When we," she gestured to her husband and the two men in front of her, "along with my Da founded the Resistance against Bran, it was because we recognized that the cycle of violence had to end, but we had to find a way to use tradition to our advantage, without latching on to the manipulated anti-Valdet version propagated by Bran and his father. Tradition was the key. "

She took a deep breath and Mara could sense the tingle of excitement and electricity flowing between the natives at the table. "We believe that there was a point in time when the Romani and Morodin were related, that somewhere in these mountains is evidence that the two peoples came of one overclan separated by some outer turmoil. Elbereth knew of this project, keeping it from Tristan until we had solid proof. She spoke often of how he did not feel to be a legitimate ruler of even his own planet having been pushed into the seat of Valdet by fate. In our initial ventures, our aim was to find the evidence to end the feud, but now with the death of Elbereth, we hope to use the evidence to remove Sian and Koi, to bring our planets back on their rightful path away from isolation."

Before she could continue, Mara spoke, "Why can't you trust Citizen Representative Arran and Esperenza? They seem to be holding things together right now."

Iralian snorted, "Those two are followers. Sian is weak, unable to make a strong decision without knowing his political position is strong, and Koi, well, she is involved in projects to discredit the Morodin, projects that undermine the entire cultural basis for our society. If she succeeds, our underlying stability, the one that ties Danshitie together, shall collapse on itself. If that happens, there shall be no going back. "

Isabelita winced, adjusting the baby in her arms before explaining. "For the last four years, Koi Esperenza has been experimenting, trying to recreate the mark of the Morodin on ordinary citizens. Bodies have been found in experimental labs of individuals who died with the mark, bearing the telltale signs of poisoning, overexposure to the same chemical that is suspected to now reside naturally in Morodin blood.

Scientifically it takes the Morodin down from their pedestal. Culturally, it would devastate us. We want to have the Morodin and the Romani back in power, and then _willingly _open elections to all. My Da forced Esperenza and Arran to back down from their standoff, and was able to send me some basic information before he and Tristan disappeared, "

Mara interrupted. "Wait, you know Tristan is alive? I was under the impression that Sian and Koi were keeping that information to themselves. The common populace believed he had died in the explosion, and that the funds from his private accounts were being used to rebuild the Romani estate as per his will."

Isabelita nodded. "I disagree with their decision, since the rationale is to prevent the people from becoming divided on legitimacy. From Da's short message, Tristan was insistent on leaving, and as my father is, with the exception of these two, the last of the Morodin honor guard it was his duty to protect him. He left to keep Tristan safe, leaving Iralian and I in charge of completing our objectives." She paused for a moment her voice growing husky," Before he left… he told me of Iker Rafagr's survival and Elbereth's death." There was a hint of deep sorrow, and for a moment she was quiet, leaning over to kiss her child's small forehead. Iralian laid his palm on her shoulder, his quiet concern evident in his eyes.

Danel, the shorter, stockier guard spoke while Isabelita composed herself. "If we find the evidence, not only can we find that small common connection to tie the two bitter communities together, but also create a more democratic system, without having to deal with an opposing entrenched tradition. What we find will be part of it already, just another missing piece of a larger puzzle"

Mara nodded slowly, understanding that they wanted to integrate new ideas and thoughts into the populace without having a full scale clash with tradition, especially since the entire populace of both worlds was struggling with the last two drastic changes in their government. "Why do you need me?"

At this point the second guard, Rian, his deep voice booming, jumped in. "The cave where we believe the evidence is, the cave where everything began, is filled with _micani_, the chemical that Koi Esperenza believes is the source of the Mark. Based on the results of Koi's experimentation, it has become apparent that none of us can touch the algae without almost certain death." He hung his head slightly sheepish, but confident " We have all heard the old Jedi stories, where not only is sickness rare but have remarkable self-healing properties…" He trailed of as he saw the gleam in the Jedi woman's eyes.

She could feel the paths diverging, the choices, _her choices_-and it was clear, implicit. One, she could stay and help the Citizen Representatives, whose own decisions so far had been hesitant, indecisive, and as she had told Citizen Representative Esperenza earlier in her visit, they had to be the one to make the crucial moves, but she _knew_ that under their guidance this system would remain, forever, in limbo. Her other choice could bring considerable harm to her own body, and as with any mission be the site of her death.

She knew what it meant to be a Jedi, to be in the service of the Force, and she knew that her place on this tumbled path was more than being merely a diplomat. This had to be the next step, the _right_ step.

Standing, she removed the tie of her cloak and placed it lightly on the back of her chair. "Where is this cave?"

Iralian led her to the window and pointed, where in the growing stillness before dusk, the Al'lorian mountains beckoned, her rose-haze arms soothing her children to bed.

Mara followed his finger and as she stood looking out at the mountain range, breathing in the high sweet air, she knew the worst was yet to come.

xxxxxx

**Thyferra**

"Bay two is open, bay two is open."

"Shh sweetheart…"

"My arm! Why can't I get help, my arm!"

All around him people were in pain. He was in pain. Every breath, every thought, every move he made ached with the knowledge of his inability to act. Tristan watched Nestor as he retrieved the discharge papers, trying not to listen to the noise and fear of the others in the emergency room.

_We have no money. _The shock of those words still ran Tristan's blood cold, his anger that had fueled him for the last few weeks as he lay in the hospital bed screaming, brow beating and fighting for release had suddenly dissipated. It had not disappeared, but had been pushed to a low simmer, replaced with a sudden knowledge that there was no choice but to leave this need for vengeance unfulfilled. The last few hours had been especially rough, and he had been unable to look at Dr. Stanton as she told him that he was to be released.

_It is more important that we survive. _With those words, in that moment, Tristan saw himself as he had been in the last few weeks, angry, selfish and the patient of every doctor's nightmare. His blinding-anger had hidden his behavior, masking Tristan's true character. He was ashamed, and well aware that his child like behavior was inexcusable. He felt sick.

"Sweetheart, shh..It'll be all right, the doctor's will help you." That quiet statement was followed by a soft whimper of intense pain. The door to the emergency ward swung open the soft whirring of the hover motors being masked by the screaming of two elderly women following the stretcher.

There was too much noise, too many people, but in a distinct change from two weeks ago Tristan found himself listening, taking in the emergency ward where he had worked so very long ago. Slowly, shifting in the cool metal seat Tristan raised his head from where he had been staring through the rancid tile floor. He adjusted the elevation of his leg, checking to make sure the crutch was still beside him before he focused on the source of the whimper. A little boy, no more than four with russet hair and long lashes sat across from him, next to a middle aged woman who slowly smoothed the boy's hair in an obvious effort to soothe him. On an immediate glance, and it had been a long time since Tristan had looked at any being from a medical standpoint, there appeared to be nothing overtly wrong with the boy. Closer inspection caused Tristan to draw in his breath.

The boy's skin was tinted green and his breathing labored. Through the thin t-shirt he wore, damp from the planet's rain-forest humidity, Tristan could see ribs expanding and contracting as the child tried to force air into his lungs. Every exhalation of air, was accompanied by a whimper, some louder than others.

Concerned, Tristan unconsciously leaned forward in the chair, unaware that his expression was transforming into the interrogating doctor expression. Eyes open and clear, though the troubled storm still brewed beneath the surface, and his mouth slack, betraying no emotion so that he appeared in control. "Ma'm, can I ask what is wrong with your child?"

She looked at him sharply, eyes flashing. "We don't know. That's why he's here."

"What are his symptoms?"

He could tell she was trying to decide whether to talk to him, and slowly, suspiciously she began a short narration. "Three days ago he spiked a fever, which was quickly followed the next morning with this strange coloration. The doctor had given him androixl, a drug which he said had some bizarre side effects, so we assumed it was from that.

Then the wheezing started, so I rushed to this facility only to find out that I had to wait until it was our turn. That was two hours ago!" Her voice was turning hysterical drawing some attention.

Tristan looked at the boy again, noting the blue tinting around his lips. "Son, can you walk over here for a moment."

The child nodded and at a speed one would only see in an ancient pod racer he limped across the aisle.

Tristan pulled down the child's eyelids, while simultaneously gauging the height of the fever. He was unconsciously aware that he was being watched with some curiosity. "What's your name?"

"H…H…Hajshi." He wheezed.

"Hajshi, would it be alright if I checked your pulse?" The child nodded, and Tristan lifted the frail wrist, wincing at the slow beat of the heart.

Tristan looked at the mother again. "Do you live near a plant, a factory, or anything?"

The woman pursed her lips. "We live near the munitions factory."

"Has anyone else on your floor been getting sick?"

"We live on the ground, the only flat."

_Ground water is getting in somehow. But why is the boy sick and not the mother? _

Tristan let the boy sit back down and tentatively stood up on his foot. He hopped a few inches, and picked up the crutch moving towards the admit desk. Nestor looked at him curiously as he approached.

"Do you need something?"

He shook his head, pushing down his mounting apprehension. "Nurse. There's a young boy in the waiting area, I think he needs immediate medical attention. "

She looked at him, frowning. "They'll get to him when they can. Don't worry."

Vehemently he continued, forgetting that he had no jurisdiction in this place. "Nurse.." he examined her name tag "Flind…he needs medical attention, _now_. He appears to be in phase two pneumonia with ground water poisoning that is causing a tinting of the detritus. He is symptomatic of chronic asthma and asphyxiama. His lips are already at a 3... " He opened his mouth to say more, but became confused as the woman's face expressed relief, an expression that was understood when someone forcefully grabbed his shoulder.

xxxxxx

Dr. Keladry Stanton could not get the afternoon's events out of her mind. After Nestor had asked her to come in to inform Tristan of his discharge, she had been hesitant, knowing that she had just been caught eavesdropping. As she delivered the news, she could not help but be surprised when it was received without pomp. Instead she could tell that some switch had been flicked, for there was no evidence of his former hostility, merely the all too familiar onset of depression and defeat.

As she approached the admit desk in the nearly full emergency bay, she struggled to smile at the Aldivy receptionist, "Nurse Morl, I'm on my way out, is there anything you would like me to do?"

The chipper woman shook her head. "I think that you just need to sign the discharge form for that gentleman over there and you can be on your way. She gestured towards Tristan Romani who sat with his leg elevated in the waiting area, his blank eyes staring through the floor, shoulders slumped. "When is your last day?"

Keladry placed the flowers from earlier on the desk, turning the screen of an available datastation, and punching her code to enter the system. "Late next week. I'm nearly done placing my belongings into storage, and then I'm off to Tatooine." Pausing, she used her free hand, the one not entering codes, toward the woman to push the flowers forward. "Here, take these. Since all of my things have been stored, I have nothing to put them in, and I really do not want to see them shrivel up in this heat. At least they'll make this dismal place a little brighter."

The nurse grinned sarcastically. "Brighter? When the sun goes nova..." she trailed off, frowning behind Keladry, "Now what is he doing…?"

Keladry turned and watched as Tristan Romani rose from his seat and made his way to the admit desk, his face tense and ready to explode. As he spoke to the other admit nurse, Keladry could not make out the words, but through expression and volume she could tell he was yelling at her for no reason.

_He's about to leave and he has the insensitivity to yell in the emergency bay? _Something in her snapped, and she turned from her corner, unaware of her bag clattering to the floor.

"…at a 3."

Was all she heard him say before she roughly turned him from the desk, aware of the sigh of relief from a receptionist who she recognized as having one of the worst shifts in the hospital. Keeping her voice low, she gave Nestor an apologetic look before angrily whispering. "What do you think you're doing? You have your discharge, there is really nothing more we can do to make you happy." She ignored the surprised look on his face and continued, drawing on all the pent up frustration in her life. "Please, don't harass any more hard working individuals at this hospital. I have put up with too much from you, and when you come back for your outpatient visits, at least before I leave, I expect a level of decorum that I'm sure you learned from whatever back-town world you received your medical degree from." Taking the short steps back to her abandoned data station, she manually entered her seal and swung it back to the quiet admit nurse, reaching down to grab the bag she had left behind. In a few quick strides she was back to where Tristan and Nestor remained standing, one with muscles tense, the other in a guarded almost protective position. She gestured towards the door, "Just leave, now."

She watched him open his mouth, expecting the same sort of verbal abuse that she had become used to in his presence, and for one distinct moment their eyes met. Keladry Stanton was struck by the immense change in his features. His face was dull, lacking in angry animation, and his eyes…_his eyes look like they've come from a corpse. _As she waited, almost anxiously for him to say something, his shoulder jerked, as if something had caused him pain. At the same moment both doctor's looked down to see a little boy tugging at the edge of Tristan's pants. Keladry could tell instantly this boy was not only seriously underweight but at a level 3 in asphyxiama. She watched as the child swayed and automatically reached an arm to steady him. She sent a sharp glance to the nurse silently requesting a stretcher.

When she turned back to the pair, she was startled to find Tristan Romani on his knees, grasping the small hands in his larger calloused ones. "What is it Hajshi?" His voice was soothing, friendly.

"C..Can..you..help..me?" His legs began to buckle, and Keladry found herself gently pushing Tristan out of the way to pick up the limp child, whose his head lolled. Her voice was, terse, low as she straightened up to walk towards the medical bay. "I need a crash cart and some oxygen. _Now_." It was only when she took a step that she realized the young Hajishi still gripped Tristan Romani's fingers as a lifeline. Her thoughts raced as she decided what to do. _I can't get Tristan through to the medbay, but we don't have time…_ Gently she laid the child onto the concrete floor, and ignoring the sudden voice of his distraught mother began to check for the child's pressure.

Forgetting that Tristan was not a member of the emergency team, she shot off questions "What did you find?"

Automatically he answered, "Phase two Pneumo, with intense dying of the det, and 3 asphyxia. Mother says drugged with a retno-infuse called androixl, and the wheezing started soon after. Diagnosis, severe poisoning from the munitions plant next to the building with complications from the androixl." With his free hand he passed her the portable oxygen that Nestor handed him from the nurse.

"His pupils are bloodshot, and his pulse is fluttering." Keladry attached the oxygen mask on the boys face, and watched the color slowly come back to his face. It was still too slow, and she couldn't do anything to help unless they were in a bay. Keladry glanced around and spotted the stretcher, and after a sharp tug, and without hesitation, she yanked Tristan's fingers from the tight grasp and placed Hajshi on the stretcher, wheeling him towards the open station. Gesturing towards hospital personnel, she did not even bother to look back.

At the sudden abandonment, Nestor looked down at the doctor, whose face now reflected a minutia of emotion-stunned sorrow. "Let's go home," He picked up Dr. Stanton's bag and handed it to the other off-duty nurse for safe keeping, and pulled Tristan to his feet. At first he took a few steps towards the bay, but was stopped by Nestor's firm hand. "You've done all you can. Let the doctor's do what they had been hired to do. We have our own problems."

xxxxxx

_I am not sure why I left without asking them to wait. I was frustrated angry at myself, angry at my stalker, angry at Tristan and Nestor. I was becoming the pessimist I had hoped never to become. For the first time I appreciated that Tristan was a doctor. His diagnosis saved that young boy's life, and suddenly I found myself holding a sliver of respect for what he had done. _

_I wasn't sure what to do with it. _

xxxxxx

**Yavin**

Raynar and Lusa glanced at one another as the silence of the jungle behind them turned to a loud thrashing. Moments before the young Alderaanian and his friend, a Centurian female had been skipping stones at the edge of the river. As they turned he recognized the Force signatures of his fellow Young Jedi Knights: Jaina, Tenel Ka and Lowbacca. He looked up as the group emerged from the Forest.

_"Well, well, well. Glad you could make it," he said._

_"Hi, Raynar, Lusa," Jaina said, coming to a stop and panting hard._

_"Are you all right?" Raynar asked._

_"The opportunity to exercise was most welcome," Tenel Ka said. _

_Lowie__ and the Wookie's miniaturized translating droid, Em Teedee added their greetings. Lowie combed his long fingers through the dark streak in his windblown fur. _

_Lusa__ gave them a measuring look. "Is anything wrong?" _

_Jaina__ shrugged uncomfortably, still unable to pinpoint the source of her disturbing feelings. Avoiding her friends' gaze, she took off her flight suit and removed her boots. _

_Raynar__ glanced around. "Where are Jacen and Zekk? Didn't they come with you?"_

_Jaina__ sighed and waded into the river. Once in the shallows, she dug her toes into the mud and pondered. This, of course was the heart of the problem. _

_"Our friends Jacen and Zekk opted to assist Anja Gallandro with her lightsaber training." Tenel Ka explained. "She already owns a weapon, but wishes to become more proficient in its use." _

_Raynar__ looked disappointed. "Couldn't they have done that later?"_

_"It was their choice," Tenel Ka said simply. Removing her lizard-hide boots and armor, she plunged into the river water without the slightest hesitation. _

_"They could have invited Anja along to go swimming with us," Raynar said. "It might have made her feel welcome, more at home." _

_At last Jaina said what was on her mind. "Anja's been at the Jedi academy for weeks now, and I don't think she'll ever feel at home. I'm not even sure she wants to. I've tried to be friendly and show her around, but most of the time she just ignores me-except when she wants to complain about something. Like the weather: she hates the humidity. Or the food: it's not prepared properly. And our lessons; it's stupid to 'sit around thinking at rocks all day.' Not to mention the entertainment: there's nothing to on Yavin 4."_

_Lowie__ rumbled a comment. "Indeed," Em Teedee translated. "Master Lowbacca has also made every effort to befriend Anja Gallandro, but to no avail." _

_She has not spoken five words to me," Lusa said. _

_Jaina__ sighed again. "She seems perfectly happy to spend time with Jacen…and Zekk." _

_"And they with her," Tenel Ka pointed out. Jaina couldn't tell whether or not she detected a note of jealousy in warrior girl's comment. _

_Raynar__ opened his mouth as if he were about to ask something, then seemed to think better of it. He simply said, "Oh." The blond-haired boy looked curiously form Jaina to Tenel Ka for a moment then added, "Well, I hope they know what they're doing." He flushed slightly. " I..I mean, lightsaber practice with someone who isn't really trained in the Force can be pretty dangerous." _

_Jaina__ looked up and flashed him one of the lopsided grins for which the Solo's were so famous. "Zekk assured me he was just going to coach. And I don't think we need to worry about my brother. He's fought some of the most ferocious creatures alive with his light saber." She chuckled. "Including Tenel Ka."_

**_"_**_This is a fact,' Tenel Ka said, raising her single hand as if it held the rancor-tooth lightsaber hilt that normally hung at her waist. The warrior girl's other arm had been cut off above the elbow in a lightsaber training accident. _

_"Now," Jaina continued, "why don't we all swim. That is why we came, isn't it? Anyway, Zekk and Jacen are Jedi. I'm sure they won't let anyone get hurt."_

Moments later Jaina kicked her feet, propelling her small frame into deeper water. She knew that Tenel Ka was not far behind her. The heat of the day was enough to push all concerns including her annoyance at Zekk's absence to the side, allowing her to concentrate on the cool water that surrounded her. Staring at the blue sky, her eyes traced the path from the gas planet to the approximate destruction point of the first Death Star. Absently, but contemplatively, and aside from the occasional roll to keep the unsubmerged portion of her body comfortable, her only concentrated effort was to make sure the rivers small current kept her away from the shallow shore where Raynar and Lusa waded, not entirely ready to immerse themselves.

Presently, she spoke, not entirely sure what she was going to say. "Tenel Ka, how often do you see your mother?"

Tenel Ka's reply was muffled, covered slightly by her dripping hair-she had just come up from a self dunk-"My mother is often busy. Court intrigue, and plots keep her…distant."

Jaina sighed, musing for a moment, remembering Tenel Ka's parents from the Young Jedi Knights' trip to Hapes. She recalled the assassination plot that nearly killed them all. "Don't you wish…" Jaina paused, momentarily ashamed.

With a small amount of concern evident in her voice, Tenel Ka prevented Jaina from continuing. "Friend Jaina-is something wrong?" The omission of _else,_was apparent.

Cautiously, trying to maintain her balance, Jaina turned an met Tenel Ka's inquisitive eyes. "Nothing's wrong, ever since Aunt Mara.. ." She tried to start again, "I just feel like my parents, mom specifically just-well-never had time for us. I," she amended quickly "we, spent most of our childhood in protective bubbles, with Winter on Coruscant, with Winter on Anoth. To some extent I feel like my mother's child has always been the New Republic." She hesitated…not knowing how to express her feelings.

Her red haired friend finished for her. "You feel that her love is from a distance-"

"Yeah"

"I grew up on Dathomir, with my mother's people. While I may have spent a lot of my time on Hapes, Dathomir was where I learned about her life, through the Singing Mountain Clan, not mother. On Hapes, my grandmother dominates our lives, and my mother is stuck in a giant juggling act, always trying not to drop the ball." Tenel Ka's voice became supportive. "Friend Jaina-is this the same reason you were upset when Master Jade-Skywalker left?"

"Maybe, Yes…I don't know why I feel this way…" Her emotions whirling, she gulped in some air before ducking under water to turn some flips. It was only when her lungs felt tight, that she broke through the surface, coming face to face with her friend.

Tenel Ka was paddling with a frown, her lone hand and elbow keeping her adequately balanced.

Jaina grinned at her friend, "I'm sorry, this is dumb."

"Fact" the Hapan Princess' eyes twinkled, and her frown turned over.

"I wonder how Zekk and Jacen are doing?"

"Probably ducking Anja's lightsaber." There was a twitch at Tenel Ka's lips as she delivered the matter of fact answer.

"Helping Anja…" Jaina snorted.

A low urfing from the shore broke into their conversation and both girls turned their head towards Lowbacca who had been prowling the banks, Em Teedee hovering over his shoulder.

"What!" They both exclaimed. Jaina looked around and spotted Raynar and Lusa's heads bobbing towards them. In that short conversation, the girls had traveled far downriver.

He growled a few quick sentences, which merely to be serviceable was quickly translated by the floating ovid droid.

"Master Lowbacca wishes to know if your morose disposition will continue."

Lowie shook his shaggy head. And repeated himself.

"I know that is not what you said, its what you meant!" Like an angry insect, the droid moved around the Wookie's head.

Jaina giggled. "We understood you Lowie." He had already succeeded in relieving her of this slight shadow in her emotions.

Tenel Ka's voice joined hers. "Fact."

Lowie growled unhappily, then made a polite suggestion, his intonation moving too fast for Jaina or Tenel Ka to translate.

Em Teedee moved over the water towards the other two Jedi. "He says that maybe the way you were raised, or rather how you, Master Jacen, Master Anakin, and Mistress Tenel Ka were raised was perhaps not meant to be conventional. Rather, a part of your legacy. No Master Lowbacca, I'm not forgetting to mention that." He had broken off when Lowbacca had urfed something quietly.

Master Streen has been speaking to Master Raynar and Master Lowbacca about the Skywalker's place in the Jedi Order, how your sacrifice as a family has been distance and separation, because you put yourselves, willingly, into a larger realm of accountability and responsibility. "

Listening, Jaina and Tenel Ka heaved themselves out onto the bank, and began to dry off in the hot Yavin sun. Behind them, Lowacca moaned, the growled again.

Taking up his recitation again, Em-Teedee continued. "The same theory applies to Tenel Ka, responsibility-it's a choice that your parents consciously made so that all of you could live in a better galaxy.

In my opinion though I find…"

Lowie snapped the droid off, unclipped the syren fiber and backed away from where his friends were lounging.

Jaina rolled her eyes, letting out a nervous laugh. _Responsibility…._ All of her thoughts on Lowie's, or rather Master Streen's theory were suddenly banished when a giant furball bounded into the sky over their heads, she could feel the draw of the Force pushing him towards the deeper section of the river.

A sense of apprehension came over her, and both girls yelled out "Lowie," attempting to scramble away, but there simply was not enough time. The Wookie landed in between them, the water leaping into the air, soaking both Tenel Ka and Jaina. Just outside of the splash radius, they could hear Raynar and Lusa laughing at them.

He urfed loudly, resurfacing, then casually began to hum as he paddled away from the bedraggled pair. He grinned toothily, the dark streak plastered to his skull.

_Why that little…_Simultaneously Jaina and Tenel Ka lunged for the water. Jaina yelled, "You're dead Lowbacca!"

A mere pace in front of her, Tenel Ka added a loud "Fact." before their lithe bodies hit the water.

**End Post 3**

**Credit: Everything in this post I wrote except the italicized portion in the last section. Everything not in italicized is mine, but the rest is from pages 2-5 of _Trouble on _****_Cloud_********_City_******


	7. Post 4

**Post 4**

**Thyferra**

"Dr. Stanton, I promise you that we will not let up our search. We have narrowed the field, and are reviewing the surveillance tapes in and outside the hospital. It will be all right. "

She tried to keep her voice patient when she answered. "Only four people know how to contact me on Tatooine, hopefully my disappearance will be a large enough deterrent. Will you send someone for the card I received today? Or do you want me to stop by the station?"

"I will send an officer by. Be careful. He has yet to contact you by comm, so you still have a shield that he is unwilling to penetrate. He enjoys his anonymity…"

There was a sudden knock on her door, and Keladry interrupted the investigator. "My next appointment is here. I have to go." She snapped the comm shut and looked down at her latest message. Like all the others it was a black square, on which was the same phrases:

_We will be together always_, _I am always with you._

Recently the flimsy was augmented with a holo of Keladry in a public space. Often she was with friends, eating or leaving the hospital. In every picture she had an unguarded expression on her face.

There was another knock, and Keladry buzzed in her next patient, raising her head as the door slid open. She struggled to keep a welcoming expression on her face. "Hello Mr. Romani."

"Doctor." He was quiet, and Keladry silently appraised him before she motioned for him to sit down. His clothes were ragged and sweat stained revealing just how much weight the man had lost in the med center. It was only after he had dropped the crutch onto the floor and maneuvered his foot to a comfortable position that she stood and knelt beside him. The new doctor had already completed his examination, but she wanted to check for herself.

Noticing the slight flinch as she grasped his head to check his pupils, Keladry grew gentle. "How are you feeling?"

"Good."

She reached to take the pulse at his neck, then went back behind her desk to check it against his previous tests. "You look better. Are your ribs sore? Your leg?" He silently shook his head at both questions. "How is Nestor?"

"Fine." From the way Tristan held himself when answering the question, Keladry could tell that something was wrong, so she fell silent using the precept of recording down new data to observe him from the corner of her eye.

For a brief span of time, as she took note of his improvement, Tristan allowed himself the luxury of looking around the now empty office. Not only were the bookshelves stripped of medical journals, books and anything that depicted Dr. Stanton's personality, there was no evidence, save the name card on the door, which identified this as Dr. Keladry Stanton's office. All that remained was a shell, empty and hollow, but instead of seeing the potential, Tristan saw how he felt-a body devoid of a will to be. Her voice cut through his thoughts.

"Is he having trouble finding work?" She had forgotten that Tristan was not aware of the eavesdropping, but with the exception of the tightening around his eyes, he made no other comment other than his short reply.

"Yes."

For a moment her features grew strained, as if she was fighting some sort of internal struggle. Then just as quickly, almost abruptly, Keladry pulled out a sheaf of papers, determined not to change her mind. "As you know I am leaving the planet in a few days. I wanted all my regular patients to meet their new doctors before I left to see if you had any questions, and that you were comfortable. After thinking it over, though, I thought that I could provide you with another option." She pushed the packet towards the prone man.

After a moments hesitation he picked it up and glanced at the file on top. _New Republic Emergency Medical Aide Team (NREMAT) Application Form._

Conversationally, she went on, "It will pay you to go from planet to planet for a period of two years, its not going to make you rich, but maybe it will help you gain some perspective, or at the very least get you off planet."

He looked at her with his gray eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Why?"

"I don't know. " And it was true; she didn't know why she was doing this. Force knew she had her own problems; it was not necessary for her to find solutions to the problems of others before solving her own. Especially for someone she disliked. Underneath the desk, her foot began tapping with nervous, contained energy. "I suppose it is for Nestor, who cares for you, and seems to want to help you. His devotion and duty seemed..." She trailed off knowing that while that answer may have been partially true, she was lying.

_"_Your intervention last week saved that child. " She searched for some reaction but while he sat up straighter, his emotionless features never changed. "If it had not been for your quick diagnosis, Hajshi probably would have been dead before anyone figured out the munitions plant connection. Under any other circumstances he would have been treated for..."

"The side effects to the Androxil only." Tristan interrupted, his voice bitter, sarcastic. "A common mistake, unless you've seen that sort of effect on other planets."

Surprised she blinked, "Yes." She pulled out another sheaf of papers. "I took the liberty of finding out about your medical history with this hospital. You appear to have received top marks for mass crisis management, and I read your paper on neo-bacta therapy. It was good. The recommendations on file will help you to enter the NREMAT without any problems." She was uncomfortable now, regretting her decision to push this. "This way you will be surrounded by doctors who can help you if your injuries take a turn for the worse…" Her voice dropped off.

He tucked the files into the bag he carried with him. "Thank you, have a nice trip." His voice was stiff, almost forced. "Where is the child now?"

She told him and then waited for a moment. "He's being discharged today, and I believe his mother has found another residence for them. She also exhibited signs of poisoning, though hers was less pronounced." He nodded in response and without another word walked out the door. Keladry released the breath she had been holding. _Of all the ungrateful..._ Her inner rant was paused by a sharp rap upon the door.

She buzzed it open and recognized the local security officer who had come for the latest message. Looking down at the desk she looked for the envelope only to realize that it was nowhere to be found. _Where could it have gone? I only moved things around to give Tristan the information…_Her hand froze. "Shavit."

"Is something wrong ma'am?"

She shook her head. "I just need to catch up with someone. Please, follow me." She knew that Tristan Romani could not have gone far, as he was dependant on his crutch. Rushing to the staff lift she punched in the appropriate floor. Moments later they were standing outside the clear plate glass of the children's ward, the officer standing patiently behind her while she searched for Tristan. It took a few cursory sweeps of the lobby before she spotted him sitting in one of the hover chairs outside the ward frowning down at the pile of papers in his lap.

As she watched he lifted the card that lay loose from the envelope below, glancing casually at the picture. From her vantage point she could almost sense his frown growing deeper, and as if he knew she was standing there his head came up taking in her stance and the officer next to her. Sighing she wove her way through the waiting parents and patients until she was standing in front of him.

Her voice was soft, taking on that lilting quality it often had when she was tired, or frightened. She struggled to control her feelings. "I'm sorry Mr. Romani. That was given to you by mistake."

Tristan silently appraised her, unsure, before handing the square card and envelope to her outstretched hand. He watched, curious as she handed it to the man next to her who in turn slipped it into a plastic bag and placed it into his jacket pocket. He realized that while the man was in civilian dress, he was definitely an officer of some sort. Tristan watched Dr. Stanton walked a few paces back towards the elevator before turning back around to look at him, her eyes exhibiting, for the first time in his presence, some emotion other than annoyance. Her voice was still breathy, soft, a sound that dropped his blood pressure...

"Please, don't mention this to anyone, "she urged.

There was a strange prick in his chest, and for some reason, that he wasn't quite sure of he called out before she moved out of earshot. "Have a safe trip."

Surprised by the sentiment, Keladry turned, nodded, and disappeared into the elevator.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was lucky that he had been on the children's ward or he would have never known. As he watched her move across the floor, looking around frantically before stopping in front of a man at the far end of the lobby he could almost smell her hair.

_Ripe elderberry, with a hint of valur vine.__ Second shelf underneath the refresher sink. _See? It was almost as if he lived there already. They would be happy together. Looking down at his data pad he allowed a small smile to congratulate himself on his timing. Timing was everything.

And that was when he saw him. His first instinct was to run, but he kept his head down, remaining unobtrusive. She had a security forces man with her, and he was taking her letter. Taking _his_ letter to her. She didn't care for him, she wasn't waiting for him.

She was... _afraid of him_.

He could feel the rage bubbling inside him, until he lost his breath, she never believed that they would work, never…she never gave him a chance. Why did he have to do all the work in the relationship?

He would make her afraid. Up until know he had been patient, even allowing her to get comfortable with the idea of his love, but now he would show her what _fear_ truly was. The cripple called something out to her before she disappeared, and it took all of his will power to not walk onto the lift with her. The plan had to speed up, she had made him do this, and he would make sure she understood.

It was not until late the next day, as he woke up, his head pounding as it did each night after his work, that he heard what the lame man had said. _Have a safe trip._

It took some time, but hours later, standing deep in the shadows on her hallway he knew she was gone. He took his anger out on a pickpocket, taking the man's blaster, leaving the body for the police to find, and then formulated a new plan.

She would have to come back, and he would be ready to watch and savor her pain.

He would wait forever.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_I could not stand the fact that Tristan knew something about me that even my closest friends did not know. In fact I think on some level I resented it. _

_I did not want to admit that I was running away, and that moment, when my secret spread beyond the investigating officer, the delivery manager and hospital security, I was truly afraid. _

_I was running away, but in my mind and in my heart I had no other choice. _

_A new life, one distant from those I loved, but one that would keep myself and them safe. _

_It was the right choice. Wasn't it?_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Danshitie**

From the onset of the journey to the cave, Mara had insisted that the party remain small. Of the two Faience's Isabelita volunteered to remain behind, partially because they could not yet leave Alden behind with a caregiver, but also because she knew her whereabouts were being tracked. Consequently, the group traveling deep into the Al'lorians consisted of Iralian, the two former Royal Guards, Mara and the New Republic Observer.

They left at dusk with Isabelita dropping them off in front of a low lying pile of rubble at the base of one of the public paths. Iralian hung back as the other four moved forward, securing their packs for the almost three day journey ahead of them. While she waited for Isabelita and Iralian to say goodbye Mara headed towards the collapsed stone realizing in the dimming light that it was not the pile of rubble that she had initially expected, but rather an abstract memorial. Made out of some sort of polished stone the curves and lines resembled two birds in flight, their wings splayed out as if warding off an unseen danger. She turned as she sensed Iralian walking behind her, and asked quietly, "Is this Danshitie's memorial for the revolution?"

Iralian nodded, "Both planets erected their tributes quickly, but neither sculpture did little to strengthen memory of the past. Valdet chose a form that honored Anian and Illian's death, while we chose a warning against shifting tides and invisible foes. "His voice was slightly amused, "Rather appropriate considering."

Mara growled under her breath, "Yes, rather."

They started then, wading through green rushes and thickets of low lying trees and bushes. Every few miles they would hit a shallow marsh and walk around in order to keep themselves dry for the longest possible time. The two guards, Danel and Rian took point with the New Republic Observer, Haldin, walking slightly ahead of Mara and Iralian. For the first few hours they were quiet, everyone focused on the task ahead, while treading very carefully up the gently sloping mountain.

Finally, Iralian spoke quietly. "The mountain we are climbing is named for Din'sal, the matriarch of the Morodin dynasty. She is the tallest of all the peaks in the Al'lorian's and as the mother is the one who punishes her children and her children's children when they stray from the strength and wisdom she passed down. The second tallest mountain is Manadie, and is the one most visible from the Palace in the capital city."

Mara thought for a moment, turning this thought in her mind. "That is why Bran's ashes were spread across the Al'lorians, so that he would wander without a home, while being punished by his ancestors."

He grunted his appreciation for her observation, and for a few minutes they were quiet, trudging up the hill.

It was Mara who broke the silence. "What is Isabelita's father's part in this? "

The man took his time in replying, "Nestor Alluvia was best friends with Isa's father, another member of the Morodin royal guard, an elite group of soldiers constantly standing ready for some sort of attack. It was a paranoid time, and the family was bitter, angry and above all else wholly determined to best the Romani of Valdet for dominance in this system.

Both sides were volatile and dangerous, but I will be the first to admit that it was the Morodin who changed the rules. We, " Mara could feel his acceptance of his identity as a Morodin, "We planted those bombs on the villa on Valdet, effectively eliminating the entirety of the Romani family. At the time Tristan had been too young, too naïve having just returned from his medical studies in the galaxy; he was not able to deal with his elderly grand uncle's takeover of what was left of the family's assets. He stepped aside as the rest of the Romani, who incidentally, aside from Tristan and later Anian, were all over the age of ninety, used their might to assassinate Elder and Dorn Morodin." He interjected, ducking beneath a branch "Elbereth's Father and Grandfather. It was during the assassination that Isabelita's father got caught in the crossfire. That same night Isa's mother was on her way to identify the body, and in her grief missed a turn- driving her speeder into a steep ravine, leaving my Isa an orphan at the young age of twelve."

He paused, inhaling and exhaling, trying to catch his breath on the uphill climb.

"Nestor Alluvia, was only 23 years old when the assassinations occurred. He had been a protégé of Isa's father, and consequently was placed in charge of the protective detail of the teenage rulers of the Morodin family. Initially, he was in charge of Bran's detail, but as Bran's suspicion and anger at his sister's piety grew, he was transferred, bearing the incredible responsibility of watching the stranglehold on the family further destroy Danshitie's values.

It was amidst this that Nestor took Isabelita in, gave her a home and made sure that she wanted for nothing. Despite their relative closeness in age she saw him as her protector, taking the place of her father. He was her Da, and all that it entails."

Mara grimaced trying to keep track of her footing in the dark. "And now he is with Tristan, trying to find Iker Rafagr."

She thought Iralian shook his head. "No, now he's protecting Elbereth's husband, a man who she believed was the direct descendant of the Valdet half of the overclan that initially colonized this system. He's doing it for her, for Isa, and for Elbereth who became not only one of Isa's friends, but someone we respected with all our heart. He understands, as we all do that Tristan has to be the one to bring us together. No one else has the legitimacy he has. No one." The final phrase was harsh with a tinge of despair, almost as if he was unsure that Tristan would return.

They heard the three other members of their group come to a halt, indicating that they had reached the first checkpoint, and their resting place for the night. As she drifted off to a light sleep, Mara made sure her senses remained alert. Past experience told her to get as much rest as possible, but to remain on guard.

It was in that half slumber that she realized she still did not know what her objective was, what she was expected to bring back. Despite her clear concern for the bodily danger that it presented, she also held a certain amount of doubt regarding the risk. She found herself wincing, knowing that if Luke had been there he would have insisted she stay behind, a manifestation of his overprotective nature when it came to keeping her safe. She also knew he would have backed down when he felt the mandate of the Force, knowledge of which, while not entirely comforting, helped her be at peace with her choice.

Suddenly she sat up, startled glancing sharply towards the nearly extinguished fire. Danel, who sat facing her noticed the sudden movement. With a grim expression he queried "Is there something wrong?"

Mara stretched out for a moment searching, but could not pinpoint what it was that awakened her. "I'm not sure." Her voice was low, distracted. "I thought I felt…." Abruptly she stopped; there was no way she was going to identify the unique presence she had just felt amongst the trees surrounding them. "Nothing, just keep your eyes open."

The soldier straightened out and his wary eyes scanned the area.

Lying back onto her bedroll and into a plane of half-slumber Mara couldn't help but feel that they were being watched.

xxxxxxxx

Day two progressed quickly, with a more solid terrain, and a shift in direction towards the north-east, with Danshitie's main city now to their east rather than south of them. As they cut across rises and trenches, Mara found herself between the two guards, Danel to her right and Rian to her left. Because they had veered off the standard path, the group felt more comfortable moving in daylight, and consequently ended up a good deal closer to the cave when they stopped for some well needed rest. Their small fire glittered, and the hollows in the rock whistled eerily leaving the travelers shivering but entranced.

Mara, who had always been forthright, finally caught the guard's attention. "What exactly am I looking for when I am inside the cave?"

The two guards glanced at one another before looking at Iralian. When he nodded, Danel spoke carefully. "We believe it's a box, a pair to some existing piece of work that the Romani already have access to."

"So I'm looking for a carved box?"

Rian hung his head and mumbled. "We're not sure."

Mara arched an eyebrow in his direction. "Well, you better be sure, because I am not going to walk into a poisonous environment without some proof."

Iralian soothed her. "There are signs, Master Skywalker. Something I know you understand to some degree. We know that we have the right place."

Danel was more forceful. "You'll know when we get there. There is no way you cannot be moved."

There was such a level of conviction, coupled with a veiled plea for her faith, that Mara could only give each of them a level glaze, before nodding and turning in for the night. As she moved towards her bedroll, she could feel the Bith's eyes on her. She could sense that he was hiding something, and she knew that out of all the members, she knew he was avoiding their conversation the most.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was nearly dusk the next day when after thirteen hours of steep, uphill climbing, first Danel, then Rian scrambled onto a rock face jutting out about a hundred feet over the open descent of Din'sal. Mara pulled herself up next, and it was only after making sure Halden and Iralian successfully managed to follow that she used her keen senses to identify the next phase of their journey. She stood and looked while straightening up to stretch her tired muscles, but all she saw was more sheer rock. _We must not be in the right place. _The Force was telling her something else. Her green eyes pierced what was left of daylight for the others and found all four standing near the edge, not moving, almost frozen in time. Only the Bith turned and caught her eye with a look of astonishment.

As she approached the precipice she could feel the life teaming around her, and almost see the Force before her, like curling tendrils forming beckoning fingers. The sensation reminded her of an experience Luke had shared with her, when on the brink of death on Dathomir, the Force had healed him, bringing him back to life; it was similar, but yet so different. Standing toe to toe with her guides, Mara exhaled at the beauty before her, wondering why this tableaux was so important.

It was majestic, the sister peaks of Din'sal arrayed before them, their snow-tears bowing to the mother as the spring of the higher altitude melted their sorrow away. The warmth pushed through the open area below, mixing the golden rush fields with the green bi'el trees that were native to the planet, creating a pattern of opulence whose contrast was reminiscent of Danshitie from orbit.

Through all of this, in the hour before dusk, Mara saw the shadow seemingly created by a cloud drift from above, spider walking through the trees, black and ominous across glowing landscapes. For more than four minutes this natural personification of Danshitie's soul created a distortion in the air around them. Where everything surrounding the cliff face was iridescent with the sun's reflection, the air was heavy, urgent and perhaps, _alive._ This was the sign that the Danshitie natives had described, this weighty feeling of certainty. She felt no surprise from the two guards and Iralian who had obviously experienced this before, and at their urging their two companions turned around. Now, in this half day half night, here in the cliff-face, hidden by the glaring sun during the day, and the indwelling shadows by night, was the opening to a cave.

Mara looked back at them, taking in their expressions of open hope, and wonderment. Rian looked at her with slightly raised eyebrows, as if urging her forward. Without speaking, she shrugged off the larger pack and the climbing harness, clicked her lightsaber to her hip and walked in to the darkness.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Cloud****City**

Tenel Ka felt terrible, her head was spinning, but her heart kept reminding her of how she was still alive.

_And Jacen is not_. Just minutes earlier they had been following an Ugnaught who, in his duplicity-most likely working for the Black Sun-had sent the three Young Jedi into a garbage shoot and to an almost certain end.

The events replayed themselves again and again and again and again.

The fall, Lowie's outstretched arm, anchored to a transmission antenna, Jacen's yell as he came flying after them,

His hand's griping her calf, tightening then _slipping,_ pulling on her boots. And then the sight that she knew would haunt her….

His _eyes, _

_Jacen's_eyes. And then he was gone. Slowly, with a grappling hook the survivors pulled themselves up, and then her world went black.

When her eyes reopened, she realized that they were standing in front of Anja Gallandro's door, and then falling in to the room as it opened.

Tenel Ka heard her happy, _not happy, what is joy,_ voice as Anja welcomed them into the room. From a distance, the Dathomir warrior heard a girl's reply, weak, weighted. "You were right not to come with us." The glittering droid exclaimed about traps, and about Tenel Ka needing medical attention. _Tenel__ Ka? Me? Tenel Ka. I'm hurt? _She whispered, an echo, "Trap"

_Tenel__ Ka? _She could still hear his voice, calling to her. _Hey wanna hear a joke?_

And she couldn't breathe. Tenel Ka felt herself being lowered to a soft pallet, but couldn't tell anything else beyond the pain.

Then Anja, after contacting the authorities, turned back to the injured, noticing Jacen's absence. Her words stabbed Tenel Ka to the core. "So where's Jacen? Torturing the Ugnaughts by telling them jokes?"

_Jokes, I will never hear another one of his jokes…_And Tenel Ka the warrior could not stop herself from crying. Lowbacca's wail reverberated through her mind, joining her mental anguish.

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**Coruscant**

Mon Mothma's life was intertwined with the birth of the New Republic. As a young senator from Chandrila she was a strong opponent of Chancellor Palpatine's rise to power, and spearheaded the rebellion through its early and darkest of days.

Seven years after the defeat of the Emperor her commitment was unwavering, when as the first Chief of State she had to choose between keeping the Republic strong, or allowing her weakened image to cripple its activity. While the Jedi healer Cilghal had purged her system of the Cardian minister's poison, she had felt older, and with time-unable to remain in the public life.

After the Corellian crisis, the brief period where Leia's whereabouts had been suspect, she had withdrawn back to her native Chandrila, realizing finally that the quiet solitude she had spoken of to Luke Skywalker had finally been medically prescribed.

Only a few knew of her frailty, a condition which was no where to be seen as Leia gazed at her image across vast distances of space.

Staring steadily at her former mentor, Leia Organa Solo was fully aware that she was looking at the only being who, besides Ponc Gavrisom, could fully understand her condition. "I'm terribly sorry about canceling, Mon Mothma"

The regal woman, whose brown hair had turned a distinguished silver, waved away her apology. "Leia, there are some things that a chief of state can not control. I know visiting was a long shot." She gazed at Leia, "Has Borsk made his bid for Chief of State yet?"

Astonished, Leia's mouth dropped open. _Of course!_

Knowingly, the former chief of state continued. "He will win of course, if you choose to step down."

Leia frowned, "How did you know?"

Mon Mothma smiled, "I may not be on Coruscant anymore, but I have friends who keep me appraised of important happenings. That and your refusal to defend yourself against his criticism of the Duro's shipping contract, _and, _the unmitigated fervor with which the Bothan's allies have been dropping his name in the same context as 'Fighting for a peaceful future'."

Leia shook her head, "In hindsight, it is fairly obvious."

"The Bothan's have never been subtle. They may work with subterfuge and hidden agenda's but when they want something as much as Borsk Fey'yla wants this…there is only so long that they can work quietly before stepping on someone's toes. There is the added benefit of being the last of the Rebellion leaders to be in office." Mon Mothma hesitated before continuing, her tone becoming respectful. "Chief of State Organa Solo. How long have you been in office?"

"Almost Thirteen years. Twelve, if you count the months where I was deemed either unfit or willingly stepped down right before the Caamas incident over Bothuwaii." Her answer was mechanical as the numbers that had been playing through her head for months took shape into words.

"How long was Emperor Palpatine in power?"

At that Leia hesitated, unsure of where Mon Mothma was going with this line of questioning. "Almost Twenty-five years, including the years where he was Supreme Chancellor." Anticipating the older woman's next question Leia continued, "Of which the Imperial Senate was a mere figurehead for almost twenty-one years if you count the period in which he held Emergency Powers during the Old Republic."

Sagely, Mon Mothma nodded. "Do you understand Leia?"

She was quiet for a moment, pondering the question. It was a thought that had been rattling around her head for over a year, of how despite the insulting comments describing her as a self made Empress, the accusations had rung true. "There are times Mon Mothma where you have to let the child go so that it can grow. "

Leia unconsciously straightened up before continuing. "If I were to stay, I would lose perspective-after thirteen years can I really claim to be one of the people? I may hear what the citizens have to say, I may still feel the ache of Alderaan as if I had stood on that Death Star last night-but I can only feel it when the weight of the office, and the responsibility are not there." Leia leaned forward with a level of urgency she didn't know she felt. There was a vague sensation of loosing her bearings, and in the back of her mind Jacen's inquisitive face flashed before her eyes-almost a mental reminder of why she was doing this.

She finally voiced her concern. "How can I step down, and not feel like I am abandoning them?"

Mon Mothma raised her hand palm up, as if stopping Leia's fears in their tracks. "Madame Chief of State, there is something I would like to tell you, but listen to it all and then take some time to think. Maybe it will quell your fears, maybe it will bring you clarity." She took a visible breath, steadying herself, and then continued.

"The Jedi of the Old Republic were arrogant. " She let that hang for a moment and then began to explain herself.

"They were arrogant, not in the traditional sense, not the typical arrogance and self-righteousness you see, and shall see from council members such as Pwoe and Borsk, but arrogant none the less." Mon Mothma could see the line of confusion across the Princess' face, and inwardly grimaced at dark shadows that lined the once, young features. _It is time Leia, It is time. _The inward mantra was repeated even as she resumed speaking.

"My brief experience with them before the purges showed how the council had become detached, almost omniscient in the eyes of the citizenry. They had become _higher_ then those who they served.

In the realm of galactic politics that was the time when one man manipulated billions, and proved that he could bring them to their knees.

Leia-" Mon Mothma repeated her name, "_Leia_, in our time, in _your _time, it was to show that the Jedi should become one of the people, not removed from our world creating their own sheltered existence from the commonalities of civilized survival. They had lost their connection to life, by somehow placing themselves _above_ life. "

"I met Jedi who I respected, and upon their deaths I grieved, but I _understood_ that our war was about much bigger things. I know that I am not a Jedi, that I have no place, no right in judging their path, but I can not shut out what lasting use I can still be, despite my retreat."

_In other words_, Leia thought ruefully, _you still exist within the realm of politics, even though you stepped down. I know that will be true, but the illustration is well worth it. _Leia returned to conscious attention, taking note of the formal tone that Mon Mothma was continuing to use to underscore the sincerity of her advice, advice given to her equal.

"Madame President, you have a future as a Jedi. Where your brother has expanded his connection and has seen the necessity and continues to see the necessity of keeping that attitude from returning-I think that maybe its time you explored what you can do, to keep the Jedi and the government working together, without repeating the mistakes of the past."

Looking exhausted the former Chief of State leaned back in her chair before continuing. "This is almost the opposite of the conversation I had with your brother when Lando Calrissian was searching for a wife, but I hope you understand why I feel the need to articulate it. " She offered the younger woman a firm smile. "You are not abandoning the galaxy, you are giving them the power to choose, knowing that your guiding hand, your advice will always be there for them. But you have other gift's, and a life to live without politics. No one can begrudge you that." She offered a wan smile, before delivering her parting message.

"Borsk will win Leia, but we have to trust that he is worthy of that esteemed place of trust, that high mantle of power. The rest is up to the Force, which shall never leave us."

As the screen faded away Leia sat back in her chair, stunned. Almost mechanically she moved towards the office and finished her speech. As she hit the key she realized that it was time to take the next step. Hitting her commlink she called her aide,

_"_Get me Cal Omas and Ponc Gavrisom."

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**Danshitie**

Drip. Drip.

Drip. Drip.

If the lack of light was the first thing Mara noticed visually upon her entrance into the cave, the systematic echo of liquid bouncing off liquid was her first audible introduction to the task she had before her. Just steps inside the cave, the collapsing shadow of night obscured whatever clues that sunlight could have provided, creating a surreal atmosphere, perched on this moment as if waiting for her disturbance, with the sound of dripping water masking any effort she could make on discerning the depth of the cavern.

With short motion she flicked on the glowrod, set to give off the barest of beams. While her lightsaber would have done the trick, she understood that too much light may lure any unseen predators to the light, or even, as she recognized the isolation of this cavern, the possible destruction of the fragile ecosystem.

In the small harsh beam Mara was able to see an immediate environment pocketed with endless pits and stunning stalactites and stalagmites- to some extent identical to the caves on Nirauan. This cave, however had its own unique heartbeat, and Mara could feel the pulsing through her toes, echoing off her fingertips and radiating into the nothingness beyond.

Cautiously, she took a few steps forward, attempting to get a clearer understanding of her relative position within the cave while maintaining a sense of balance over the precarious topography. She blinked and watched as the low beam of the glowrod exposed the mouth of a seven foot high channel, which appeared to be at the end of the larger and wider opening that marked the entrance of the cave. For a moment Mara evaluated her situation, and with her internal sense of time took stock of the inky blackness of the pit to her left, and the shallower pit to her right. The narrow path she was on appeared to be sturdy enough, so she stretched out her senses, shut down the glow rod and hooked it to her belt. Not allowing herself to get used to the darkness, she pulled out her light saber, and with a _snap-hiss_ activated it, realizing that her previous concerns were secondary to the primary one of survival.

Almost immediately, the cavern was flooded with an ethereal glow, deepening some shadows while banishing others. Rough walls, smoothened out, with ghastly nightmares turning into oddly shaped outcroppings. Mara examined the channel again, and after noting that it seemed to be wide enough for her to walk straight through nimbly crossed the distance, plunging herself, saber first into the narrow space. The first noticeable sensation was almost visceral making her feel like a caged animal, with invisible limitations behind her suddenly becoming a physical reality. Her shoulders were a good three inches away on either side, and remembering the warnings about the algae that had effected the ancient Morar clan, she took care to retain her distance.

Thirty minutes later she abruptly stopped, realizing that at some point it had dawned on her that if someone were to come up from behind, she was in a fairly precarious position. Standing there, alone, she shook her head in chagrin, because if she wanted to maintain her distance from either wall on this seemingly endless corridor, turning around in time to defend herself would be difficult; especially with the echo of her footsteps intermingled with the constant drip masking any sound or warnings.

_You have the Force, Mara, get a grip._ It was then, as Mara shook herself and set her shoulders to focus on the path before her, that a strange feeling of freefall invaded her senses.

_Jacen_Automatically, she reached out for his presence, and found herself, without forewarning, being pulled forward, her worry for Jacen's well being superseding her concern for herself. Not watching her step as she stretched out beyond Danshitie, Mara suddenly stumbled over a loose rock. She flailed, keeping her elbows tucked in and absently glanced down, _Emperor's Black Bones!_

Somewhere out there Jacen was in mortal danger, but her danger sense combined with all the combat training she had ever had told her that she, Mara Jade Skywalker was about to embark on the fight for her life.

She had not stumbled over a loose rock, rather there, on the floor of a long endless corridor, with only her lightsaber illuminating the way, was a skull.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Outside the cave, Iralian paced quietly trying not to disturb the others. Before he and his wife had separated, they had talked about the dangers, about how they were sure that Koi Esperenza and Sian Arran had people following both members of the Faience family. The first night he was sure they had a tail, but had hoped he had had lost them when the group resumed travel the next day-off the common trail. His catch-22 was that as long as their tail followed them, the pressure on Isa would let up. Alternatively, if he was successful in losing this group, the Citizen Representative's stooges would focus on Isa and the baby.

The risks they were taking were enormous, and so he paced, trying to calm his nerves, and hoped that the Jedi would be successful.

"Is she in danger?" The voice of Halden made Iralian jump. It took him a moment to realize that the Bith was asking about Mara Jade Skywalker, not Isabelita.

He started to assure him, but then shrugged dropping his voice. "I don't know." He hesitated, "I hope not. Many of our companions have entered the cave, many did not return."

"What happened to those who did return?"

"Dead." His answer was succinct.

The observer made what seemed like a nod, his shadow barely visible through the dying fire. "There is a lot the Jedi have sacrificed for those they pledge to help. I trust, for your people's sake, that she is successful."

Both their heads turned to a scraping sound at the edge of the cliff, tensing as a gravelly voice behind them wheezed, followed by the unmistakable sound of a blaster being removed. "I hope for your sake, that she is too, or your deaths will be in her hands." Iralian and Halden watched with shock as four figures repelled down the side of the mountain, shooting two directed stun beams into the sleeping forms of Rian and Danel. Their bodies twitched before going still.

With feelings of suspicion and resignation they observed group of Fl'intil and heavyset humans came into focus, their blasters steady and sure. Slowly Halden stood up, his pin glinting in the firelight, his posture denoting an icy calmness. Warily, Iralian watched the leader, a Fl'intil with red eyes, settle himself in front of the fire, tucking the blaster under his arm while warming his hands.

Gradually after the silence and the ramifications of his control had sunk in he waved towards Iralian and Halden and conversationally murmured, "Sit down, Sit down. We're here to keep you company." His tone became volatile, "and if you're good and give us what we want, we'll make sure to shoot you before pushing you over the edge."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After finding the skull, Mara found herself falling into a pattern. Mechanically making her way down the corridor, she stepped cautiously over bones and remains, shutting down her senses to the Force echo of their death in her minds eye. Something about the remains bothered her subconscious, and try as she might she could not figure it out. Every so often, Mara would crane her neck to check behind her, scanning for trouble as if she expected something to jump out from the gloom. This was followed by a few moments to secure her pack. When her internal sense told her to eat, she ate, and it was by keeping track of her ration bars that Mara knew she had been traveling for almost twenty-four hours.

She had, at her best, gone without sleep for days, so it was not sleep deprivation that came first to mind when her eyes detected an increase in the light level in the corridor. In fact, as she performed one of her security sweeps, she noticed that the light level was growing as she moved forward. She had the distinct feeling that she was entering a more sacred space, an older place, one which demanded and directed the lives of its visitors. Hesitantly Mara gently depressed the activation button on her lightsaber, and half expected to be plunged into darkness. Instead with the blue of her saber extinguished, she found the corridor patched with a mixture of ultraviolet green and violets, patches of algae growing through the fused rock transporting her into another world.

Mara paused for a moment to absorb this change, and her danger sense flared, urging her forward.Once again making sure her arms and shoulders were covered, Mara traveled on.

She had long since lost track of the minutia of time, aware of only the mesmerizing quality of the iridescent rock surrounding her and the passage of roughly another day. As she walked, she tried to keep her mind clear of emotion, to focus only on the task at hand, a tactic she had become skilled in when working under the service of the Emperor. Immersed deep in the Force, Mara stretched out her senses, trying to see through the endless turns and dips of the channel to find her unknown destination. It was in one of these periods of intense concentration, that she felt a jolt of pain in her shoulder.

Mutedly, staring at her side, she worked some moisture into her mouth, struggling to keep her breathing level. Somehow, the incandescent light of the tunnel had hidden the gradual now almost suffocating closure of the tunnel, and what had once been room enough for her to walk upright, now only allowed for measured steps. In her narrow field of view, her shoulder had finally slammed into the right hand wall, catching on a sharp edge and tearing not only the fabric of her multi-purpose jumpsuit, but creating a small, but deep cut along the rounded curve of Mara's shoulder blade.

"Shavit." It was the first word she had spoken aloud in days, and in a brief moment of uncertainty as she felt the poison, infecting her bloodstream-her palms sweaty, her pack slowly weighing her down adding to the ache in her muscles-she had a sudden urge to turn toward the entrance and run for safety.

_Stand firm. _In her mind's eye Mara saw the bodies she had stepped over to get to where she was, and she understood what bothered her. Every single of those lost souls had been running away, towards the certain exit, not realizing in their panic that it was too far away. Unbidden, her knees buckled and she slammed to the floor. Her breathing had grown haggard, and with one of her clammy palms she wiped sweat off her forehead. For a moment she propped herself, palms down into a crouching position, attempting to find some nodule of strength. Then, drawing on the Force, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and fumbled with the straps to the pack, shoving ration bars into her pockets before depositing it on the floor, a sacrifice to the dead.

_Breathe Mara, Breathe._ She wiped the sweat out of her eyes again, and pushed herself into a crawling position, and then up on her feet, grasping the walls, no longer caring about protecting her skin. With the support she continued to stumble along until finally just meters away the corridor finally widened again. There Mara fell to the ground against the textured walls, and directed her full sense to the poisons entering her system. This hibernation trance would not end with Luke's gentle "I love you," but she hoped, she would purge herself of this sickness and, be back on Yavin IV to hear it before their next anniversary. The Force was her ally, there was no way she would fail.

_These are your trials…._

That was perhaps, the last coherent thought Mara Jade Skywalker had before slipping into oblivion.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Turn, Slash, Turn, Slash. _

_She was standing in a practice room, Luke's remote hovering above her. _

_Turn, Slash, Turn, Slash. _

_She was alone. _

_Turn, Slash, Turn, Slash. _

_The remote kept shooting, but no matter how many slashes with her lightsaber, the red bolt managed to slip through stinging her arms, her legs, her torso. _

_Mara grimaced to herself, and wondered aloud. "What in Sith is going on. I don't have to play by your rules." She charged the remote, a thought flashing in the back of her mind about how Luke was going to kill her for destroying his remote. _

_Parry, Reposte. _

_Turn, Turn, Turn. _

_She was on __Mount__Tantiss__, Luuke stood before her in the moments before she cut him down… _

_"No. I've been here before. I know that Luke is not the enemy. I have left my past behind me." Her voice held an edge, worried. The back of her mind was aware of her other self, lying on the floor of a cave in the outer rim, feverish and dying. _

_Turn, Turn, Turn. _

_She was in the cave on Nirauan looking towards the Hand of Thrawn, partially aware of Luke's arm around her as the flames of the Jade's Fire's death throes. Her trials to becoming a Jedi Knight. _

_Her voice was bitter, but at peace with her decision. "My sacrifice, my decision." _

_Turn, Turn, Turn._

_Another memory, of Chak Fel and Vader's Fist on the Outbound Flight.__ Mara's tickling memory of Survivor's guilt, seeing an Empire that she could have been proud of. _

_Survivor.__ Survivor. Survivor. The lone word tumbled through her head, like a ringing bell. _

_Mara felt herself become frustrated. She yelled out, into the vision. "There is no guilt. I know what I felt then. I've dealt with it." _

_Her voice bounced back at her, and suddenly the words were different. "What do you fear?" _

_Her fists squeezed together, her lightsaber suddenly at her belt. Releasing a breath she answered honestly, "Losing Luke, hurting those that I have just begun to love." _

_Survivor.__ Survivor. Survivor. _

_"What do YOU fear?" _

_Mara ignored her voice, her vision had become blurry. She was grasping for meaning, for some reason why she was here. _

_Turn. Turn. Turn. _

_She was standing in a practice room, Luke's remote hovering above her. _

_Turn, Slash, Turn, Slash. _

_She was alone. _

_It clicked, and Mara scoffed at the vision. "You're here to lecture me about being alone? I am NOT afraid of being alone." _

_She was holding Luke's saber again, staring at the droid just above her. She watched it turn mechanically to her its gears loud against the muted silence she had become used to. She raised her saber, lunged and performed a balestre, and in a move reminiscent of her lesson with Luke on Wayland stabbed the lightsaber point first through the droid._

_It exploded, and she dropped the saber attempting to protect her face from the sparks and machine parts. The searing heat was burning through her, and in one last effort she flung into the Force, the bright, blinding, boundless pool of energy and wrapped it around herself for protection…Before it enclosed her, she saw one last image, her body, wasting away, deep inside Din'sal. She heard the echo of her other self, pleading for an answer. "What do you fear…" There was a roar of water, of suffocation and a flash of light…._

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," Mara sat up, finding herself at the end of the corridor, leaning against a wall on a cool smooth floor. She hoisted herself up onto her feet, unable to see beyond the red curtain of disarray that was her hair. Swinging her braid back, the room spun and immediately she grasped her stomach, retching and emptying the remaining poison onto the gray stone.

For a moment she inhaled, welcoming the sudden breeze that whispered to her like a sudden rain on humid Yavin IV. All she could focus on was the hazy, stony gray that composed the walls and floor of the cavernous endpoint in her journey. Mara could sense the spirituality here, the life, but while her danger sense had quieted down she could not banish the uneasiness that still troubled her subconscious. She could not bring herself to think about what she had just experienced…yet.

She slowly lifted her head to look straight into the open cavern and found herself reflected in a sheet of water that tumbled down into a lazy shallow river. For the briefest of seconds, she saw an older and wiser Mara, with graying temples looking back at her without expression, but the image melted away leaving behind a, red eyed, weak skinned woman with fiery red hair. Thirstily, she ran her fingers through the water, letting the moisture permeate her dried fingers dusty from the lengthy travel, then after drinking her fill and slipping through an opening on the side, stepped into the cavern.

It was a round room, with three more waterfalls similar to the one Mara had just ducked through. Together the four poured the elixir of life into a small river, five palm lengths wide, following the circumference of the room. Within this sacred circle were concentric rims bordered by trees and vegetation, that grew exponentially smaller in width, but exponentially higher every few paces, creating the impression of a hill inside a mountain. This vegetation, while not enough to be the jungle of the Morar legend, were recognizable as vestiges of greenery similar to the exterior of the Al'lorians. Near the top, the rings gave way to the rust-gray stone of the cave walls, as if this altar had been carved from the mountain herself, and flattened out to a single pinnacle.

Mara's passage through the vegetation was slow, but not entirely due to the complexities of navigating a possible minefield. Her body ached, and the elevation of the cavern made something as simple as breathing a concentrated effort. Like stepping stones, she gradually scrambled over each steppe until, balanced on a ledge not more than the size of her shoe, she was able to see and reach into the platform on top. The top of this structure, dipped into a concave deposit, a womb so to speak, for a treasured object. Her green eyes widened as she traced the outline of what was secreted there, taking in the hues, colors and the scripts, inhaling sharply with recognition. There, lying flat at the cusp of this pyramid, half submerged in fine grain sand was Isabelita and Iralian's proof, and with shock, Mara realized that she knew where the counterpart was.

_Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Cloud****City**

Jaina and Jacen sat on the scaffolding high on Cloud City, silently observing the shifting condensation and cloud cover as it moved around the glasteel enclosed arena. They had arrived a few moments before the others, hoping to talk.

Jaina peered at her twin, a funny expression on her face. "Do you find it odd, that I never heard you call for me?"

Jacen frowned, then shrugged. "Maybe it was the will of the Force that I was saved by a Thranta rider, who then was able to provide us the clues of what Czetheros and the Black Sun were doing here." His expression changed, and he tossed her a signature Solo grin. "I'm alright."

"Are you?" Jaina asked, arching her eyebrow. There was a strange undercurrent in his emotion.

Jacen nodded, then reached over to hug his sister. He couldn't help but grin as he remembered the hug Tenel Ka had given him, upon seeing him again. A sudden thought crossed his mind, taking away the relaxed, pleasant feeling. "You don't think anyone else felt anything do you?"

Jaina paused, then shook her head. "If I didn't? I don't know, it is possible, although Mom did not mention anything when we talked."

_"_And Uncle Luke would have contacted us through Lando." Jaina mused, then smiled as she spotted Lando and their friends making their way up. Anja was looking weary, almost struggling up the heights.

Jaina glanced back at her brother, whose eyes were fixated on the Hapan Princess making her way towards them. Sensing her attention he glanced back at his sister, blushed, then pushed her gently.

"Jaya."

She giggled, "Jace." More somberly she added quietly, "I would talk to Tenel Ka at some point, or do something nice. "She and I talked earlier, and I think that she may have heard you reach out, but was too delirious to comprehend anything. You know how she is, I think she needs reassurance that you're really all right. Lowie too."

Jacen nodded, and glanced back at the red head that was a few meter's below them. "I think I may have just the thing."

**End Post 4**

**Credit: In the scene with Tenel Ka, following Jacen's supposed death on ****Cloud****City**** the situation and events are from _Trouble on _****_Cloud_********_City_********What I have done is to change the POV. Where in ToCC the scene was from Anja and some Lowie point of view, I shifted it so that it was now from TK's POV. Additionally, the last scene in this section is also based off of ToCC, but I've just added a'la _I, Jedi_ some dialogue prior to where the book's scene. **


	8. YJK Arc III Book 3 Summary

**Summary of YJK Arc ****III****: The Black Sun Trilogy**

**Crisis on Crystal Reef**

Lots of little things happen at the start of this book. Zekk builds a new lightsaber, and proudly shows it off to Old Peckhum, his guardian, who comes for a surprise visit. Zekk has put his past behind him and is ready to start anew. (Incidentally when Peckhum comes he asks to meet Anja who has been in Zekk's hololetters recently, and Zekk acts guilty, like he knows he's hurt Jaina.) Anja on the other hand, is going through spice withdrawal and is not doing very well. In fact she ends of up stealing _Lightening Rod. _

Faced with choosing to chase after her or file a criminal report, the YJK decide to go help their friend, who is going through a troubled time adjusting to her new positive feelings toward Han Solo. They follow her to Kessel. When Anja reaches on Kessel she meets Lilmit, a former employee of Czethros who Han and the kids had prevented from selling arms on Anobis. He spills the beans that he worked for Czethros and that he was going to go finish his task on transferring a stash of spice from Mon Cal. Hearing this betrayal Anja looks at things a little differently. She formulates a plan that she needs one more dose of Andris to tide her over, then she will go after a stash of the spice on Mon Calamari and ruin Czethros forever.

The kids on the way to Kessel, Jacen expresses another questioning attitude about Han's role in Anja's father's death, they all have a bad feeling about what is going to happen. But Lando and Nein Nunb, a Sullustan, run the mines now, and they feel that it is a safer place. Upon arrival they learn that Nien Nunb just escaped an assassination attempt, and that something sinister is going on at Kessel. He asks them for their help. The YJK agree. In their search they realize that something is going on, and they interrogate Lilmit who Anja stranded on Kessel. He tells them what he told her.

Deciding to split up, Zekk, Jacen and Tenel Ka go to Mon Calamari, while Jaina and Lowbacca stay behind to help Nien Nunb. At Mon Cal the three get help from Ambassador Cilghal (TK is interested to see that she is both a Jedi and an Ambassador, perhaps with her own questions of being the heir to Hapes AND a Jedi?). They arrive, find Anja who finally tells them everything—her involvement/her being controlled by Black Sun, her knowledge of the attempted murders on Cloud City (after the fact) and how she realized she had been duped. She tells them her plan and together the five (including Cilghal) go after the spice stash. They attempt to destroy it, but are attacked by a sea monster who gulps up the spice, and in rage (now that he's high) he attacks their sub driving them beneath an ice cap, freezing them in place. Anja, feeling the claustrophobia and addiction feels like she is dying and Cilghal who is also a healer offers to help cleanse her body of the poisons. (BTW, in her fever induced withdrawal Anja realizes that Han Solo probably was telling the truth and that the Jedi were her real friends.) They cut their way free of the ice cap, where Anja is tempted once again (i've excerpted this last part), but does not submit and return to Kessel.

On Kessel-Jaina and Lowbacca are having their own adventures. They watch as Czetheros, with the help of one of Nien Nunb's top aides takes over the spice mines. In a rousing speech he reveals his plans for the NR, that operatives are in place on key planets waiting to take down governments and financial systems as soon as the signal is given. Together Jaina and Lowie sabotage Czethros efforts to control the mines, and destroy the transmitter preventing his NR takeover. At the end they capture him, by watching him fall into a vat of carbonite, encasing him for the unknown future.

There's this very cute scene between TK and Jacen where he tells her to remind him that he has something for her. He had made it earlier and had been waiting for the right time to give it to her. Jaina and Zekk also have a touching moment where he teases her, apologizing that he didn't come back in time to rescue her. (It's a running joke through the books). They go back to the academy where Luke praises them and tells them of a ceremony the NR is going to put up in their honor for all their hard work. Jacen has a talk with his dad, saying that he's sorry he didn't trust him, and Anja apologizes and thanks Han for his help. Anakin comes up with a plan to root out all the Black Sun operatives on the NR worlds.

Everyone's family shows up for the ceremony and Anja reveals her decision to leave. I've used a POV scene change involving Tahiri and Anakin to show one of the final scenes of the book. (I really just wanted to try my hand at writing the two of them.) As well as showing Mara's POV of the ceremony (my perspective is, that despite not being talked about, she would have been at something as important as this...). The final lines of the book are as follows: "Slowly a hush fell over the audience, and Tionne lifted her voice in song. Her ballad told of the rise and fall of the Shadow Academy, the defeat of the insidious Diversity Alliance, and how the threat of Czethros and Black Sun had been overcome. The melody carried a message of new hope as Tionne sang e of bravery in the face of danger, betrayal and redemption, trust in the Force and sacrifice. New Legends of the new Jedi." (198)


	9. Post 5

**Post 5**

**Coruscant**

Leia hesitated at the entrance to the small lounge adjacent to her office. In the unbidden reaches of her mind this group almost appeared to be part of a special council of war; friends who had supported her through the fledgling Republic's most desperate hours. This was to be a different kind of war, one which she hoped would decide who the next Chief of State would be, because despite Mon Mothma's insistence, Leia could not resign herself to Borsk's inevitable success.

At her hip her commlink twittered softly, and she stepped back into the hallway walking a few steps before she answered. "Organa Solo"

"It's Han. I just wanted to let you know I've got a meeting with Lando in a few hours. He'll probably have additional information about what happened on Cloud City. As soon as we get it down formally, I'll draft a report with Winter and send it to you."

"That would be great. The more we know about what Czetheros and the Black Sun are up to the better." Her eyes scanned the nearly empty hall, catching sight of a young aide with dark braided hair walking towards the office. Recognizing her as one of Borsk's aides Leia nodded a greeting at the girl's seemingly deferential look of awe, and turned away as she felt the same manipulative gloating in the aide's presence that had been following all of the Bothan's staff for the last few weeks. _It is as if he's already been elected!_ In the back of her mind, Han's voice continued, and she focused on it once again.

"…listen, afterwards I'll be on the Falcon." _If you need me, _was the unspoken addendum that she automatically filled the longer than usual pause with.

_Nerfherder._Leia smiled at the comm, thanked him, and then made her way back to the lounge. This time she entered the room and quickly sealed the doors behind her. It was a relaxed atmosphere, but she knew that once they heard what she had to say it would be bustled with activity.

Cal Omas was having a quiet whispered discussion with the Caamasi Senator Elgos A'kla, while Councilor Triebakk and Ponc Gavrisom watched her with a measure of curiosity. After a moment the conversation to her right ceased and she murmured a brief greeting before delivering her news. "I'm sure you realize that in about a year the Senate has to re-ratify me as Chief of State. After talking with my family, and Mon Mothma and a long period of self reflection and thought…I've decided I will not be running again."

Her Force sense appraised the myriad of reactions from around the table. Cal, was reflective, as if he had known this was coming, Ponc and Elgos surprised, and Councilor Triebakk held no expression, but then again not many people could decipher expressions from a Wookiee. He shook his shaggy head and groaned a question.

Leia shrugged, and shook her head, "No I do not think I can ever step out of the political arena, but unlike the last time," she nodded her head deferentially at the Calibot, "this is permanent."

"If I could be impolite and ask a question," Elgos respectfully interjected. "This is in no way influenced by Senator Borsk Fey'lya's apparent bid for the post?"

"No!" Vehemently, she continued, but with more control. "No. I've been in office for thirteen years. Before that it was the rebellion. Mon Mothma was President for only seven years, and as the second Chief of State since its inception, I think that the New Republic needs new leadership." She added quickly, "Not that I would like to see Borsk in my seat anytime soon."

Cal Omas leaned back in his seat. "I had wondered why your aides had not submitted the forms along your usual timeline. You're normally well ahead of the deadline." He looked at his fellow Alderaanian.

Leia frowned, "How long do you think I have before someone else, like Borsk, figures this out?"

"I wouldn't worry. His machinery is so caught up in slandering your name that they won't look to see if you actually filed until much later. It's the Holonetnews that you have to worry about."

She grimaced. "Well, I'll just keep quiet about it. I want to finalize the speech before I set the date of a press conference. I've discussed this with some close advisors, and we think that two-three months should be adequate. This way one of the four of you can file for candidacy immediately after without any further issues."

Cal looked at her slightly amused. "One of us? Why not all four? Odds of any of us having another chance at this are fairly low considering the life-span of the office."

"Whoever runs will need the other three for support. You four are the leaders of coalitions which I believe are critical in preventing extremists like Pwoe from gaining control. "Her words halted as the commlink beeped.

Flipping it open she snagged her datapad with her other hand, "Yes? Hello, Luke."

She listened for a moment, then queried, "Where? When?" After motioning to the four to talk amongst themselves, Leia moved towards a inner part of the room for privacy.

As she walked away Triebakk growled again, and was not surprised at Elgos and Cal's almost immediate agreement. "The only qualified being is former President Gavrisom."

Cal nodded. "I don't think that two Alderaanian's in a row will help me."

Elgos frowned, "I do not think I am suited for the job. I would make a better ambassador, or advisor."

Looking flustered, Ponc tilted his head graciously. "Are you sure? Senator Omas, being Alderaanian should not be a reason not to run."

The senator merely shrugged, "You have been in the office before after serving many terms as senator. Under your leadership peace with the Empire was obtained. "

**"**But that was only after President Solo's intervention on our behalf," the Calibot interjected.

"Under _your _leadership peace with the Empire was obtained." Elgos repeated, "Your name is on the charter. "

"You, out of all of us, are the strongest being to defeat Borsk and his factions. " Cal urged, "You must see that Ponc." His eyes glanced towards Leia who was making her way back to the table.

Her voice was steady, almost restrained, "Fine, meet me down here in fifteen minutes we'll have to work with some damage control." She glanced towards the foursome before her.

"So?"

Three of the eyes turned to Ponc Gavrisom, who stood up with steadiness and character.

"Madame President, I would be honored to take your place, if elected, as the next Chief of State of the New Republic."

Leia smiled although her eyes betrayed some underlying tension; she nodded firmly, "Good, now get to work."

She hesitated before moving towards the door. "There has been an incident in the Empress Teta system. As details arise, I'll make sure you're kept informed."

Before leaving the room, she scanned the hallway for familiar and unfamiliar presences, and was startled to find the same aide lurking nearby. _Well, if she's looking for information, we'll give her some._

Leia turned back to her companions and displayed an almost wicked smile. "Gentlemen, there is one more thing I'd like to discuss with you…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Fifteen minutes later, Luke strode into her office, where she sat almost stunned by the carnage on her screen. It was a scene of a building in the corporate sector of the Empress Teta system, and it appeared to be an explosion or bombing of some sort. She looked at the time stamp. _Four hours ago. _"What happened?"

"Wurth Skidder and Tresina Lobi were there, we'll have a report as soon as they return." He turned to Leia and with a level of confidence which she was sure was part façade.

"Leia, you know this tragedy will do in the Senate, especially since the Jedi were on planet, they've begun to take every incident as a sign that the Jedi aren't being controlled. There are some who want something to be done." He hesitated and then continued,

"I thought about the conversation you had with Mon Mothma, and there may be something we can do, something that I've been thinking about for a few months, but wasn't sure it was the right answer until today. "

He met his sister's gaze. His blue eyes, burning with a level of intensity she saw only when it came to matters of extreme import.

"Leia, I want to reinstate the Jedi Council."

xxxxxxxxxxx

To the others in the grand corridor, she was indistinguishable from the many staffers rushing to their next meeting, or dictating into a recorder. Staring only at the floor and avoiding eye contact Morleigh Awim counted the number of steps to her boss's office, trying to stop herself from shouting with glee.

_Talk about being in the right place at the right time!_

Within moments she let herself confidently into the lobby of Borsk Fey'lya's office, finally allowing herself a self-satisfied grin, "Morleigh Awim, to see the Senator."

"You aren't on the schedule." The droid behind the desk was unwavering. "The senator has a meeting in ten minutes, I'm afraid you will have to come back later."

"No, I'm afraid that is unacceptable." She was adamant now. Somehow one of the other low level aides would realize she was absent from the committee meeting they were supposed to be taking notes on, and try and scoop her in someway. _Who cares about government contracts anyway?_

She started as the inner door to the Senator's office opened, and the charismatic Bothan walked out with some files. She straightened, her dark plait swinging behind her, "Senator Fey'lya."

"Good Evening Morliegh." He turned back towards the office.

"Senator, if I may have but a moment?"

Turning around and with a look of patience that was somewhat forced, he waited for her to speak.

Choosing her words carefully, to avoid the other beings waiting in the Lobby, she added, "In private?"

He gestured for her to follow him into the office barely allowing the door to slide shut before dropping all pretence of patienc, "Yes?" It was an order.

Her breath came out rushed and stumbled. "I was walking past President Organa Solo's office and saw her come out of a conference room, looking upset. " She was not going to mention the fact that she had been staking out the office just in case something like this did happen. "Then, almost ten minutes later, Senator Omas, Ak'la, Triebakk, and Gavrisom exited."

The powerful Bothan's expression looked almost bored. "They are her most ardent supporters." His tone was slightly mocking. _Except for Gavrisom, who has his own agenda. _

"Yes, I know, but I _happened_ to be walking in front of them and heard something I thought you should know. " She paused for dramatic effect.

"The four senator's are going to propose a new piece of trade legislation, a sort of addendum to the Duro's proposition that would tariff all exporters of military grade hardware unless they are willing to import certain agricultural materials…"

_A bill that would redeem the Chief of State on her hard-line military preparedness image that we've perpetuated._ She gloated inwardly before continuing.

"…and she turned them down!" She knew she had the Senator's attention and breathlessly, with flourish added the kicker.

"They turned to other topics for a few moments, and just before I turned to walk back here, Senator Gavrisom turned to Senator Omas and said 'She's just not working out, I may just have to withdraw my backing. I need this addendum to pass, or my constituency will be asking me some hard questions." The young aide lapsed into silence, sensing that her discovery was as important as she had thought it would be.

Borsk's eyes glinted, "Thank you, Morleigh. Please, let yourself out."

As the aide left Borsk Fey'lya chuckled to himself. "If passing that bill means that 'Puffers' will switch sides. I may finally have something to offer him."

xxxxxxxxx

**Valdet**

Sian stared at his desk stop, adjusting his wiry frame, trying to will his comm to ring.

They were late. He looked at the door, than looked back at the time, then again at the commlink. _How did it come to this? _He had already had a terrible day, and grimaced as he thought of his earlier visitors.

He jumped as the door to his office slammed open, but was not surprised as his conspirator Koi Esperenza strode in. Her high forehead was pulled taught and her features stretched in tension. "Sian." The following stare was unnerving, and it was expectant.

One of his fingernails tapped the table involuntary. "No word. It has been nearly a full week since the last check in."

"And the other team? The one following Alluvia's _shitzu_? "

His spine stiffened at the vulgar reference to Nestor Alluvia's family. After their late night meeting so many weeks ago, Koi's bitterness at their manipulation had transferred itself to the bearer of the news, and towards her hatred for the monarchy. He knew he was being manipulated again. "They left Drask behind, she is after all alone. They're hoping to make contact soon. "

"How soon?"

Sian pursed his lips, holding back the urge to kill this woman before him. "Ten minutes ago." Imperceptibly, the corners of her eyes tightened.

"Really." It was a hiss, almost snake-like. They stood silent for a few moments, neither moving when the comm beside his hand blinked. Koi tilted her head, as if giving him permission to answer.

Hiding the disgust in his voice, Sian jabbed at the button, "Arran. "

Full of static, he recognized the Lieutenant of the second team. "I found them. "

"Where."

"On a cliff face. Two dead, the others were stunned and tied up. "

Koi spoke spat out. "What happened? Don't mince words. Did they succeed?"

There was a scuffle on the other side of the comm, and a groan, The voice of the team lead came over the comm, in obvious pain. "We don't know. The Jedi came out briefly after I talked to you, she…we didn't stand a chance.

xxxxxxxxxx

**One week earlier…**

**Danshitie**

It had taken her a little over two days, moving at a brisk pace, to make her way back through the cave and through the opening cavern. Drawing closer the vague danger sense that had yet to disappear grew stronger, prodding her to increase her speed. Carefully maneuvering over the narrow pathway, Mara was nearly through the hidden entrance when strange voices caught her ear.

"Yes, no…she has not come out yet. Don't worry sir, we won't fail. There are six of us, and just one Jedi. No sir. Yes sir, we'll bring it right away, sir." An audible pop echoed through the cavern as the commlink outside was shut off.

Stretching her senses Mara could make out four individuals standing at ready alert, too alert for her to distract them. From their presences it seemed like they were in a loose semi-circle around the cave entrance and all four were exhibiting signs of nervousness and to some extent an emotion that Mara could only term as superstitious. _They are afraid of this cave. It is almost as if they don't really want to be here. _

"We're not going to watch you kill her. She's Mara Jade Skywalker. I'm fairly sure that if she doesn't completely destroy you, her husband will when he finds out that you even aimed a blaster at her." Mara almost laughed, recognizing the deep voice of Rian. She could tell that her four traveling companions were sitting next to two unfamiliar presences, one maliciously focused, while the other was agitated, and tightly wound. _The leader and his personal goon._

Iralian's voice was low, "I'm not sure why you're even doing this, why work for someone like Sian Arran and Koi Esperenza? They're worse for our planetary future than the Romani's or the Morodin's. "

Mara remembered him telling her about the Nida' di Accord. The Night of the Accord when Nestor Alluvia had tied up Sian and Koi, told them of how they had been manipulated, and then forced them to work together.

Nestor Alluvia was not a stupid man, because he followed these actions with a concise message to his daughter and husband entrusting them to watch both beings. It was obvious that he hadn't even trusted their word to his face. At the time they were a means to an end, a way for Tristan to follow Iker Rafagr. Now, his entire plan for restoring order was dependant on whether Mara had been successful or not. She listened to Iralian again.

"Everyone native to Valdet and Danshitie are descendants of that original clan. Even the Fl'intil." His steady confidence did not appear to be swaying the leader, but two of the guards were pretending not to listen.

Mara took stock in her situation. She could wait until it got darker, and get more rest allowing her body to heal. Or she could go out now, and deal with this mess. It was obvious that Sian and Koi had them followed, and while Mara knew she could take out the six individuals with some fancy footwork, she didn't want to be arrogant enough to think she couldn't get hurt in the process. She'd have to be suicidal.

Once again, the Force decided for her.

The leader's voice had interrupted Iralian. "You know what? I don't care what this is all about. As long as I get paid, anyone can have my allegiance. In fact, I bet that she didn't survive the cave. I don't believe in that all powerful Jedi nonsense. Even these idiots I work with will be able to take her out. One against the six of us. HA! You'd have to be suicidal. "

Mara grimaced, as she realized his insult had drawn the attention of the four guards away from their task. She was not going to get another chance like this. Gently laying the pack on the ground, she stepped through the cavern entrance, blaster in hand. "All right, let's get this over with."

xxxxxxxx

For a moment no one moved. Then almost in unison the four humans who moments before had faced the fire, now whirled around, blasters drawn.

She looked at them, and laughed inwardly at the expressions on their faces. _I don't look that tough to you do I, I look a bit like I've spent almost five long days inside a cave. _She was well aware that she didn't look like the clean cut Jedi Knight of legend. Waving her blaster at them, she arched her eyebrows. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

The men shuffled, not sure what to do, wary. Mara caught Danel and Rian's eyes and watched as the latter slid his glance towards the other two men. She blinked.

The Fl'intil stood up slowly, and walked towards her, making sure he remained behind the guards. "Where is it?"

Innocently Mara looked from their captor to Iralian. "Where's what?" She shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Frankly, I think it's all a part of your imagination."

His lips twitched, "Liar."

Mara, who exuded calm, grinned, "If you say so."

His green skin paled for a moment before, with a semblance of a man in control, flicking his wrist. "I can search you dead as well as alive. Shoot her."

Mara saw the four shots coming long before he gave the order, and was ready, instantly leaping up fifty feet before flipping over the gunmen, landing softly in a crouching position between Iralian and Halden. From the corner of her eye, she saw both Rian and Danel lunge towards the other two men. With her lightsaber still clipped to her belt she yanked the left two blasters from their grips with the Force, twisting them up and around before slamming the two guards together. They fell to the ground, unconscious.

With her hands still free, she simultaneously lined her sight shooting off stun beams toward the other two. The third of the four assailants collapsed immediately, but Mara realized that the fourth guard had gotten off a shot. Dropping her knee to the ground, she arched back flattening herself to the ground. She watched as the bolt passed harmlessly over her.

_Thunk._

Mara leapt to her feet and turned around, feeling the death behind her. She had been hoping for a bloodless fight, but casualties were sometimes impossible to prevent. The leader's thug had caught the blaster shot that she had escaped, and from what she could tell, Danel, upon seeing the last guard about to shoot her, had used the Fl'intil's blaster which was not, as expected, preset on stun, with the hopes of stopping him.

She swept the area noting that none of her four companions had any obvious injuries before striding to the cave opening. Reaching in she snagged the bag and swung it lightly over her shoulder.

Her voice was controlled, "Tie up the four that are living. Leave the dead. They'll have backup coming as soon as they don't check in."

Halden came up to her, laying a limb on her shoulder, "Are you all right?"

Mara gave him a quick glance. _This is not the time to think about it._ "As well as can be expected." She caught Iralian's eye, and he quickly looked away pulling the camp together.

She kept her voice low "Iralian, Danel, Rian. I found it, and if you can get me back to Valdet, I can show you where the other half is and we can end this feud forever."

xxxxxxxxxx

**Valdet**

Sian stared at the comm, grimaced and looked up at Koi.

Her voice had gotten louder. "You _don't know?" _

_"You don't know!" _She repeated, and was about to say more when her personal comm chirped. Angrily, Koi stalked out of the room.

The voice was subdued, "She wasn't holding anything before she attacked."

Sian sighed, "Did you think that maybe it was inside the cave?"

"It could have been, but there wasn't any time." He was miserable. "What do you-"

He was cut off as Koi reentered the room, and slammed her finger onto the comm, disconnecting the line.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Sian growled. "This is my office, not yours."

Koi slapped him. "Stop whining. If we don't get ourselves together we're not going to have offices at this time tomorrow. My aide just commed. They landed early this morning, and snuck into town. Kilan just saw the Jedi with some of Tristan's former friends in the legislature.

Sian, if they found it, they can destroy our credibility, and we're through."

Stunned Sian dropped his head into his hands, so she wouldn't see his look of resignation. It was better that she saw him as weak. Her cynical laugh brought his head back up.

Koi looked at him piteously, "They can destroy us, but don't worry Sian, we won't go down without a fight."

xxxxxxxxxx

**Tatoonie- Anchorhead**

Nestor removed the last of the boxes from his hold, and secured the ramp to his ship, _Selanore_ before turning to Raoul, the young Ho'Din standing patiently beside him.

Carrying their own load of boxes, the two of them made their way to the hovercart choosing an easy silence until the unloading was complete. Standing almost three meters high, Raoul's red and violet scales glittered in the low overhead lights as he heaved his boxes in place, steadying them with hand. Brushing at the ever-present sand on his tunic, he then took the last box off of Nestor's pile before asking conversationally, "So, how was the trip?" He closed the gate on the cart, secured the load and walked around to the front.

Following, Nestor casually waved goodbye to his temporary co-pilot who was finishing the station paperwork while he escorted the supplies to the NREMAT storage area, "Not too bad, uneventful actually. "

"Good, Good." Raoul grabbed the hovercart controls, and then meandered through the corridors ducking under a low arch towards the main corridor. "Uneventful is always good."

Nestor nodded in agreement, "How about you, how are the vaccinations going? Did you find the missing ingredient for that salve?" Raoul was a member of the NREMAT homeopathic team. In fact he was the homeopathic team. With a background in the famous natural-medicine field, he had been attempting to find a remedy for the skin rash that many in Anchorhead were suffering from. The doctor's had pinpointed the cause to an updraft of coarse sand particles, but had been unable to soothe their patients. As with all NREMAT doctors, today was Raoul's shift in the dock area, helping the medical teams unload the daily supplies that were constantly arriving

Raoul shook his head, "I found something I thought would work, unfortunately it was effictive only once before the rash reappeared. I need something stronger." He gestured to the boxes Nestor had brought, "Maybe the Gingean I ordered arrived."

"Maybe, although, I would not bet on it. The inventory list indicated it was more bandaging and sterile equipment."

"Ahh, the Doc's will be happy to hear that." A few minutes later they had deposited the cart with the storage master, and were walking back towards the quarters.

Nestor looked over at his companion with a smile. "How's the weather?"

"Hot." His tone was bland, uncensoring. It was always hot on Tatooine. "In fact you may want to cover up before we head out the UV levels have been intense."

Nestor weaved the white band of cloth that had been hanging from his neck like a scarf up and around his head, "I am going to clean up, but I don't want to stay inside. Is there anything going on tonight?"

"Some doctor's transferred over from Mos Eisley today. We're having a welcoming get together, "

"I'll be there."

xxxx

It took him about an hour before he felt presentable enough to show himself in public. Wrapping back up, Nestor exited the quarters he shared with Tristan and four other doctors, ambling towards the dining quarter, dubbed the NREMAT decontamination unit.

Right before ducking into the tent his practiced eye, trained to search out threats at every moment, took in the NREMAT complex. Five buildings made of a mixture of clay bricks smoothed over by years of sandstorms, the complex boundaries was indistinguishable from the rest of the Anchorhead trading buildings. The days on Tatooine began early, with most inhabitants taking advantage of the relatively cooler mornings to complete transactions and errands. Consequently, as the twin suns of Tatooine barely peeked over the horizon, most of the lights within had been extinguished long ago, and the complex buildings were peaceful and thankfully empty, standing still, with no medical emergency putting them to use. By habit, Nestor paused to examine the smallest of the buildings where a low light flickered in the window.

Every evening one doctor was expected to take the night shift, ready to sound the alarm, and comm those if an emergency arose. Nestor knew that once again, Tristan had traded with the scheduled doctor, eager to let them join the late night parties while he stayed alert and alone. Nestor had never felt pity for his highness, instead regretting his own inability to help a man who, with so large a load on his shoulders, had suddenly found himself stagnated, without the means of support.

When Dr. Stanton, had given him the NREMAT information Tristan had been hesitant, almost suspicious. Upon realizing that he lacked options, they found themselves whirlwinded to Tatooine, quickly filling in the spot of a doctor at one of the two posts on the desert planet. A quick placement, by any means but nevertheless welcome. Nestor had found himself a job quickly, helping in the docking area with transport, making bi-weekly jaunts to pick up shipments. They had swiftly found a routine that was both comfortable and unobtrusive.

Tristan's days were spent amongst other doctors, remaining involved but generally aloof unless with a patient, where Nestor saw the old Tristan come feverishly alive. At night, the doctor retreated into his thoughts, no longer angry or completely depressed, but inevitably living in a self-imposed quarantine from life.

Nestor on the other hand had made friends quickly, and would spend time in the company in others almost as much as he spent time with Tristan. He had never had a chance to travel far, and while not a sheltered man, he was determined to embrace this opportunity while staying true to his duty. Therefore, it was with little reluctance that he pulled himself away from the brief observance of the flickering candle, and ducked into the tent.

Weaving his way through the gaggle of younger interns and medical students he made his way towards the back of the tent, nodding to those who greeted him along the way. He spotted Raoul at a small makeshift table, sitting on a crate.

"Nestor! Welcome," He waved his hand and gestured towards an open seat, sliding a clay cup of liquid towards him. "Feeling better?" The Ho'din's tone was much more cheerful, having consumed a few glasses of the local ale already.

"Yes, although I will cherish having a full shower again." Nestor took a sip from his cup, grimacing, as usual, at the aftertaste. His eyes slowly went around the table taking in the other occupants. Besides Raoul, there was his sometimes co-pilot Generazio Decatur, a Coruscanti native, the resident mechanic. There was also a slim female named Syla, a nurse who smiled behind her cup in greeting. Both were wearing the light tunic's that were all the rage in Anchorhead. After noting the empty seat across from him, he turned to the third individual sitting peaceably to his right.

Raoul introduced them, "Doctor Benin Akil of Mon Cal, Nestor Alluvia of…" he trailed off and stared at Nestor intently. "You know what, I don't know where you're from."

Nestor froze for a moment, then shrugged extending a hand towards the Mon Calamari's flipper. "I'm from a small planet in the outer rim, but it is enough to say I came from Thyferra."

"It is good to meet you," Benin said gravely.

His friend's face brightened at his words. "Thyferra, really? The other new doctor just came from there-she's been on Tatooine a few weeks longer than you, her name is-"

"Nestor!"

At the sound of his name, Nestor turned away from the table, finding himself staring into the intent hazel eyes of Dr. Keladry Stanton. For a moment he took in her appearance, before he smiled, pleased to see her again. "Dr. Stanton."

She laughed lightly, more relaxed then he had ever seen her. "Keladry, Nestor. My name is Keladry." He watched as she looked around the table, and her features gained a slight pinch. "Where's …." She trailed off at his warning look, and abruptly moved around the occupants, taking her seat on the other side of the table. She fell immediately into conversation with Raoul, but Nestor saw her glance at him every few minutes, as if she wanted to ask about Tristan, but wasn't sure how. When their party had dwindled down to five, Dr. Akil turning in early, she opened her mouth to ask, silenced by a raucous laughter coming from a group of younger medical students. One, a blond haired girl, stumbled over to the empty seat next to Nestor and barely managed to not slip off of it.

"So, Nestor Alluvia." Her voice had a slight slur to it, but was conscious enough to look him straight into his eye. "We have a question about your cute cousin. Dr. Romani. He's so mysterious, yes mysterious." She paused for a second, not noticing the quiet interest of the rest of the table's occupants. "We," she languidly gestured to a few interns standing in a corner, "Want to know why he doesn't talk to anyone. Does he hate us?" She hiccupped, "Or are we so beneath him that..." She hiccupped again, and changed topics, "Nevermind. Tell him that we like him. He's nice." She looked at Nestor expectantly, and then somehow got onto her feet almost landing in Nestor's lap before hesitantly weaving her way back to her friends. He winced inwardly as the group burst back into uncontrollable laughter.

Keladry watched this exchange with some level of worry and amusement. Nestor's face had become guarded, and she could tell he was getting ready to leave. For a moment the other occupants of the table watched him warily as he appeared to fight some inner demons Then abruptly, he turned to them. "Listen, do me a favor. If Dr. Romani comes to you and tries to take one of your night shifts make an excuse and say no." He looked plaintively at Syla whose brown eyes were concerned. "He's been working for four days straight, and the only way I can talk him out of these night shifts is to get people to stop letting him cover them."

Kel was soft as she answered replied, "Nestor, he is a grown being. He has to make his own choices."

Nestor looked at her, and frowned.

Syla sensed the darkening mood, and jumped in with feigned ease. "Dr. Rantic has the night shift tomorrow. He won't relinquish it once I talk to him, but that means we'll be one short for sabaac. Will Dr. Romani play?"

Nestor struggled from looking away from Keladry, paused, then shook his head, "There was a time when I would be sure about that, now I am not". He looked at Keladry, recalling the sabaac game he observed when Tristan was still in a coma. He raised his eyebrows, questioningly, "I know you play, will you join us?"

She nodded, her face still expecting a response.

Desperate to avoid her queries, he ignored the look, and carefully extricated himself from the table. Despite the chorus of 'Stay!' and 'It's so early!' from Raoul and Syla, he found himself walking to the exit of the tent.

Astonished, Keladry watched him leave, and blinked when she realized that Syla was asking her a question.

"I'm sorry, yes?"

Syla grimaced, clearly not wanting to repeat her question. "It's none of my business, but Dr. Romani is always so…" She searched for the right word, "…unhappy. Do you know why?"

Noting that Nestor had been caught by an acquaintance near the door, she stood to leave, hoping to catch up with him. She looked at Syla, and hesitated. "I know a little, but I'm not sure if it is something I am at liberty to repeat." She shrugged, and said her goodbye's quickly, noticing that Nestor had just ducked out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nestor had not gone more than two steps before he heard Keladry calling his name. He turned, his fist slamming against his thigh, "Yes, m'lady?"

Keladry stopped for a moment, taking in the cool night air. "I was wondering if you could escort me back to my quarters."

Nestor nodded, but didn't offer her his arm. Instead he tried to head off her questions with one of his own. "How is your situation Dr. Stanton."

"Keladry," she replied nonchalantly before continuing, "My situation?"

"The doctor told me about the incident in the children's ward, and I remembered you receiving other letters in my presence. Have the security forces been successful?"

Her heart froze, and for a moment she was afraid that her stalker was about to jump out from behind a corner. Letting out a ragged exhale she shoved her hands into deep pockets, and shook her head. "No. But I didn't leave my contact information with many people. So I hope that he has given up." Once again she hesitated, there had been so few _real_ people she could talk to about this. "It's been going on so long, that I find it difficult to relax, but occasionally I forget and am able to enjoy this freedom. This space..." She tossed her head back her eyes soaking in the open sky, and fluid starscape. Nestor watched as a few wisps of hair escaped from where she had pinned it up. "I fear though, that I will awaken, and find this an illusion. Some trick of fate, willing me into security." She stopped, surprised to find themselves already at her door and at how much she revealed.

Nestor turned, and she noticed just how safe she felt in his presence. He casually placed his hands on her shoulders. "Dr. Stanton. He's not here. You _are_ free, do not let him control what life you have left." Hesitantly, he squeezed her shoulder, then whispered softly, "If you are afraid, and you need help. We will not hesitate to help. We have not forgotten your kindness to us, and anything we can do to keep you safe is our duty."

He saw her into her dwelling, and it was only after she was lying in bed thinking about what he had said that she realized that he had said "We."

xxxxxxxx

The next day was intense with Keladry quickly becoming used to the typical problems and patterns that befell the Anchorhead NREMAT team. Located on the opposite end of town from the city hospital, they quickly found themselves dealing with an overflow of survivors trickling in from a late morning sandstorm. She marveled at the stoicism of these people, and noted how though the injuries ranged from mild to severe, not one patient complained.

She had her first chance to observe Tristan when she exited the suture hut for some water. The sound of laughter turned Keladry's head, as it was a sound rarely heard on mornings such as these. For moment she thought she was watching a stranger, instead of her former patient.

Dr. Romani kneeled before a young pregnant woman who appeared to have a case of mild dehydration. As she watched, he patted her arm speaking softly, which caused the young woman to smile and giggle. The girl replied, her lips twitching mischievously as Tristan adjusted the hydration IV, and Keladry jerked with a start when he laughed in return.

Astonished, she took in the absence of shadow under his eyes, the slight tilt of his head, his upturned mouth in an expression reminiscent of a smile. When he turned she saw the mirth and twinkle in his gray eyes, an expression which disappeared when he caught sight of her unwavering gaze. Chagrined, she gave him a small wave to which he nodded before he turned away, his manner more reserved.

That evening she arrived at the dwelling where Nestor, Dr. Rantic, Tristan, and Raoul lived, and was immediately dealt into the sabaac match. An hour later she excused herself for a round after losing first to Raoul then Syla. Reaching into their cooling unit, she poured herself a glass of blue milk, a Tatooine specialty, and then turned as the door to the dwelling swung open.

Startled, she turned towards the door, and met the tired, cool eyes of Tristan Romani, who she presumed was coming in after finding his offer to take the night shift kindly rejected. Casually, much as she had done earlier that day, she waved, simultaneously relaxing as the sweet milk tumbled down her parched throat. "Dr. Romani."

"Dr. Stanton. " His greeting was gruff, almost forced. She cautiously followed him up the stairs and out of the narrow kitchen. Watching him from the back she detected a slight limp, half inclined to make sure he was still on his meds.

While she reclaimed her seat, Nestor turned around and watched his cousin's retreating back. After a moment, he casually folded his hand.

xxxxxxxxx

Nestor ignored Syla's triumphant scoff when he folded his idiot's array, slowly following Tristan into the back room. He caught the door before it fully closed. Nestor frowned as Tristan popped the tops of his meds, tossed them in his mouth and, seeing his bodyguard, toasted him with his bottle of water. "Hello, Nestor. "

Nestor leaned against the doorjamb, "Not working the late shift?"

Tristan shook his head, "Nope, surprising though, since Dr. Rantic is one of your saabac buddies. " He looked beyond to the laughter coming from the game. "Go back to your game Nestor. I'm in for the night. Who knows, maybe I'll actually sleep." Somehow he didn't seem convinced.

Gently closing the door behind him, Nestor scanned the room. "Dr. Stanton says that she hasn't received more letters since she arrived here. But she seems, to be still uneasy. I told her that we're here for her, so be nice Doctor."

Tristan turned to his friend who was already opening the door to leave and monotonously replied. "I'm always nice. "

The former royal bodyguard laughed, relieved that their former banter had resumed. "You're always nice Doctor, just not always human," he shrugged, "Do you want to play a hand? I'm being wiped out and I remember you were a sharp player back on Valdet."

Thinking for a moment, Tristan gulped down some more water and shrugged, "It is not as if I have anything better to do, since you've prevented me from taking any more night shifts."

Nestor shifted uncomfortably at being found out, then lead the way back to the table. Yanking a chair over and putting it in the empty space next to Dr. Stanton he motioned to the dealer. "Tristan's going to play a hand for me. " He slid his pile over to his friend, who sat stone faced before exhaling and looking at his cards. Then Nestor sat back and watched Syla and Raoul cry.

By the end of the fifth round, Keladry had come out even, and the other two had lost miserably. She watched amused as Nestor and Tristan looked at each other, and almost smiled herself when Tristan's mouth twitched into a smirk. _I wonder what else he likes. Maybe including him more will draw him out._

Nestor crowed, almost seeming ten years younger. "Doctor, wait until I tell Elbereth about this o-"

Keladry looked up to see what stopped his exclamation and saw that his face had grown ashen. "Nestor, are you all right?" He was looking to her right, with an intensely apologetic look on his pale face.

"Doctor, I.."

The color of Tristan's formerly animated face matched Nestor's, but as the older man face remained fiercely apologetic almost fearful, the only significant alteration in the doctor's features was in the tightening around his now suddenly bloodshot eyes.

Worried, Syla immediately placed her hand on his forearm, a touch which seemed to break the moment which had been frozen in time. Quickly, his breathing ragged and heavy, Tristan jerked his arm away, quickly moving almost desperately toward the door.

_Slam._

The room was deathly quiet, before Raoul scooted his chair to Nestor whose color was slowly returning. "Nestor. Who was Elbereth?"

Nestor stood, knocking back his chair letting it land with a loud _thud. _The remaining individuals watched as he paced slowly around the table. A few minutes into this he stopped, as if hearing Raoul's question for the first time. He looked up an uncertain tilt to his forehead before answering. "Elbereth was his wife. She died…" He struggled to inhale, "She died after a building collapsed on her, despite an almost certain death due to an incurable illness."

Nestor turned to her, "Don't you see Keladry, all that anger, all that pain has been transferred into his work. He burns it daily when he saves one more person's life. All the progress I just destroyed by reminding him…" He choked, righted the chair and sat back down again. Syla moved to his other side, placing a petite hand on his shoulder.

Slowly, Keladry stood, torn between helping her former patient, and helping Nestor, who obviously wanted to follow Tristan, despite his fear of ruining much more. She reached over the table and clasped his hand, realizing just how much she respected his perseverance. As their eyes met she followed his gaze to the now closed front door. He mouthed, "Please?"

She summoned her patience and opened the door to the dwelling. Shivering at the sudden cool blast of air, she scanned the horizon, finally seeing Tristan making his way up a low dune behind the house. She sighed, pulled the door tight behind her, and followed. It took her nearly fifteen minutes to catch up, but she found him just beyond the rise sitting, shivering as he stared at a the dark bleakness of an empty endless landscape.

Ignoring the grittiness in her mouth, and the sudden bruising on her ankles from the buffeting wind, she slid herself slowly down the hill till she was sitting, partially covered in sand next to the quiet man.

It was dark, with the only light coming from the homes behind them, and even that was minimal. Consequently, when she angled herself towards him, she could not tell what his expression was, or what was going through his mind. She reached out her hand and placed it on his cheek, gently turning his head to face her. "Tristan. I'm still your doctor, and I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. "

She paused, "Talk to me, and if I can help, I will." She felt the sudden moisture on her fingers, and began to remove her hand when he gripped her wrist removing it himself.

Instead of releasing her hand, he fumbled through the darkness entwining her fingers with his, and then, barely audible above the rising wind, broke into gentle sobs. The hallowed whistle moaned through the dunes, as he, still holding her hand, slowly curled up into himself. Then, in a single phrase he revealed to her just how much she may have misjudged this man on Thyferra.

Repeating himself, he turned his featureless face towards her.

"I miss her."

xxxxxxxxx

_I knew how he felt. _

_Seven years ago, my parents and I met on Coruscant during one of my breaks in medical school. During their visit the lift they were on malfunctioned, and after plunging over fifty levels, the emergency team was able to rescue them. _

_My father was in a coma for four months before he died. _

_My mother, lives on Mon Cal sleeping blissfully through the changing galaxy. _

_I miss them. _

_His tears were brief, and the silence long. But in those three simple words, he told me more about the pain, the grief, and the silence he had been enduring alone. When he finally spoke again, it was to thank me and to apologize for behavior on Thyferra. _

_The world changed for him that night._

**_Life_**_ changed for us that night. _

_I may not have realized it then, but Nestor's slip, his inadvertent rebellion against Tristan's directive from Thyferra, saved us all. _

_He gave us both a future that we did not realize we had lost. _

xxxxxxx

**Valdet **

Mara, both Faiences, the two Honor guards, Halden and few other pivotal members of the group strode into the legislature hall serene and confident. The hall was elegant, and designed to fit the number of Citizen Representatives from both planets, along with a viewing gallery for their local holonetnews affiliates. Both Sian and Koi sat in their chairs at the top of the raised dais, staring at the empty supplementary seats for the group just entering the hall.

Koi had a disgruntled expression, while Sian was bleak, resigned as if he knew what was about to happen, and wasn't happy with it. Mara could sense Koi's venomous looks at the two packages that Isabelita and Iralian carried.

Leaning towards Isabelita she whispered, "Watch Koi, she has something up her sleeve, and it is apparent that Sian doesn't really want anything to do with it." Then she glanced at Halden, who was aware of the importance of his place in the coming events.

Koi slammed the gavel down, "Order, this emergency meeting shall come to order." She directed her stare towards the group below her. "You citizen, who called this meeting through our members, speak."

Isabelita stood up. "We have been at war with ourselves for over two hundred years. _Two hundred years_, in which children of our families, fathers of our families, and sisters of our families have died.

For what? For a feud that started years before our births, over trading rights, planetary control, or the need to take each others lives? We don't know the answer, and I do not think we ever will.

Some time ago we had a new government, two monarchs working for our security, two monarchs who reached across our divisions and brought our two planets closer than they have been in over _two hundred years_. To bring them to this point, two families were destroyed, leaving only Tristan Romani and Elbereth Morodin, who found, in the end, that they had more similarities than differences.

Less than a year ago, more tragedy. A man many of us admired, a man we believed had our best interests at heart was killed. Perhaps a Danshitie native, perhaps not, he manipulated his way into our hearts and minds making us think that if opening our planets to one another had brought us this much grief this much death, maybe isolation from one another would protect us.

His death brought us this-" She gestured to the ruins of the palace behind them, "and this." Isabelita struggled to keep her face emotionless as she moved her arm to point at Koi Esperenza and Sian Arran.

There was a murmuring in the chamber, and Mara heard Rian mutter under his breath. "Steady, Isa, Steady."

She took a deep breath. "I have come to tell you today, that you have been lied to.

Tristan Romani is _alive._" There was a collective gasp.

"The night of the bombings, Tristan pulled himself out of the rubble of his home, the only home he had ever had after losing all of his family to Morodin destruction, and watched his wife die.

You don't need me to rehash the events leading up to her death. We all know what happened, the miscarriage, the illness, the inevitable loss. We know that she would have died eventually, there was no cure to be had. Instead though she died because of their-" Once again she looked at the two statues at the front of the room, "and your negligence."

"My father, Nestor Alluvia, saw Elbereth's last moments, but before the bombs, and the darkness she told him about our worlds, about our history-a story that had been passed down for generations between Morodin rulers, about how we are one."

She launched into the quick, ten point description of how Danshitie and Valdet had once been of one overclan, perhaps a group of travelers from another planet, that had found themselves crashing into two separate planets, forever separate, forever apart. It was at the end of this description, that one of the Citizen Representatives raised their hand.

"Ms. Faience. This is all well and good, but its mythology. There is no proof." It was an older gentleman from the Northern country of Valdet.

She nodded, glad for the opening, and her arms tingling with excitement, she smiled. "We have proof." The room was quiet and then burst into loud chatter and discussion.

"Order, Order." Koi slammed the gavel, leaning forward in her seat so that she could watch Isabelita unwrap the first of cloth bound packages lying before them. Mara watched humorlessly as Sian began to slump, almost shrinking away from his co-leader.

Iralian stood, and in a teacher's voice, quite different from the emotionally charged expression from before, he outlined the events that lead to the discovery of the Danshitie artifact. "What Jedi Master Skywalker found, was a stone tablet, on which was written some text, in what local archaeologists and scientists refer to as Danet. Up until days ago, the only evidence of Danet was on Danshitie, showing up in many different ruins and sites in the Al'lorians. There was no way of translating the script until, with Tristan and Elbereth's marriage, the passing of knowledge between scholars became commonplace. It was then that the means for deciphering the script was found in the linguistic roots of traditional Valdet." He paused for a sip of water, then continued.

"For some that was proof enough of the connection between planets. For others, it was a mere coincidence. We struggled to find evidence of Danet here, in this very city, but with no success. Then Elbereth told the story of the Moror and Din'sal, about the mark. Only her story had a slight deviation from the public records.

In her version, the Moror were not looking for a means to exert dominance, but rather were making a pilgrimage to a sacred ancestral altar. It was from that story and translated script on other sites that we believed that there was some record of the journey, something that would justify Tristan's legitimacy on both planets, having ultimately been the descendant of this single overclan.

Elbereth hoped that this would prevent another period of war, another period of death upon her passing. "

He sat down, and Mara understood that it was her turn to speak. It was a new sensation for her, nervousness. She had long since been invisible, blending in to the background, separate from politics. She had always been alone, on the outside always watching from a distance. And then, she met Luke and things changed.

She stood and looked around. "Honorable Citizen Representatives. " She could sense the mixture of awe and suspicion. "I am a mediator, a neutral observer in these matters, but as a Jedi I can not refuse a request for help. Tristan Romani asked me for help, not for his wife, but to prevent these two worlds from tearing each other apart. Isabelita Faience approached me weeks ago for help in retrieving this artifact. It was no easy task, but up until that point, I had wondered what my place was in helping bring stability to the region. Then I saw the script on the tablet and realized I had seen it before, here, on Valdet."

Her eyes turned to Sian. "It was during my meetings with Sian Arran and Koi Esperenza, that I saw a stone carving, not dissimilar to the one that Isabelita holds right now." Slowly Iralian began unwrapping the second tablet." I thought nothing of it at the time, but once the background information had been provided, I realized that this had to be the missing piece."

"We rushed back to the city, hoping that the news of our initial discovery had not reached Valdet. We found Sian Arran sitting in his office, with the tablet just where I had seen it last. He knew that they had been found out, and with their feigned ignorance revealed, willingly handed it over." Mara turned solemnly to a now white-faced Koi Esperenza, who obviously had not been given this information.

"What you do with this information is up to you, but I ask that you work with your people, and find out what they want. There has to be a balance between isolation and stagnation." She sat.

In the silence that ensued, Isabelita pushed her piece, with is broken edges towards the piece that Iralian now held, and in a physical demonstration of unity, they clicked naturally together.

Isa took a deep breath and when she released it she released all of her fears. "My purpose in coming here today is not to level unfounded accusations upon the honorable Koi Esperenza and Sian Arran, but to set the record straight. To show, that this is _not the way it has to be." _

At this Koi Esperenza finally found her voice, "I suppose that the point of this melodrama is to get us to approve Tristan's reinstatement as King Tristan Romani? High lord over all of us?" Desperate, but determined not to show it, she threw in the only card she had left to play. "Where is he? If you're speaking for him, have him come before us and defend himself."

They had expected this, and knew what had to be done. Isa turned and glanced at Danel and Rian before she spoke. "No, we cannot bring him before this council, just as we are not here to speak for him." She sighed, finally showing her distress. "There is one more thing I need to say, and then the surprises, I hope, shall be done. On the great night, where Sian and Koi brought a truce to death that had been plaguing Valdet City for days, the Nida d' Accord, Nestor informed them of one the greatest betrayals of our history. You have heard me talk of a great man, who many of us believed in to bring peace through separation. You also heard me refer to him, in the same breath as a manipulator. Tristan Romani, former ruler of Valdet and his bodyguard, my father Nestor Alluvia of Danshitie, saw Iker Rafagr alive."

The roar in the room was impenetrable, and Koi slammed her fists onto the desk, not even bothering to refute the claims, but trying to control the assembly. "Order, Order."

Mara glanced at Halden, who she had finally convinced to tell her of his NRI affiliations, and learned something infinitely more important. She stood, and calmly using the Force muted the volume in the room. In seconds they were quiet again, "There is another witness."

She felt the surprise from Iralian and Isabelita. "I can tell from the conversations that an accusation such as this cannot go unmitigated. So I present to you New Republic Observer Halden Onith, who as a neutral observer, has corroborating evidence."

She saw Iralian relax his fist under the table, and motioned to Isabelita to go on. Although there were still rumblings in the hall, they had quieted down enough for Isabelita to continue. "As soon as the no-fly sanction was lifted, Tristan and Nestor left-to trace Iker Rafagr and bring him back to face justice." She raised her voice in praise, determined to not falter at the last." Some will say Tristan abandoned us, but I say he gave us the greatest gift that any Romani or Morodin has ever given us. "

"He gave us the gift of choice." She let her words ring, in the now deathly silent hall, and she knew that she had recaptured their attention.

"What we do now is up to us, to the citizens, to the _people. Not_ a group of Citizen Representatives meeting in secret to determine the course of our peoples without their say.

Iralian, Rian Manlo, Danel Tilan and a group of Citizen Representatives from both sides of the aisle, have come up with a proposal. Once outlined, we hope that it will come to a general vote on both planets. In short it calls for an era of compromise, an era of peace where we shall be separated by our own bodies of legislature with a united group to keep us closer together." She took a deep breath, allowing the basic idea to permeate the stillness. "If approved we hope that it will become the basis for a safer, secure _and _stable Valdet and Danshitie!" With those words she yielded the floor to allies, and slumped exhausted into her seat.

The proposal came next with the Citizen Representatives they had been talking to in secret outlining their ideas, and when it was all over Koi and Sian had been detained for questioning, and the ringing of applause filled her ears.

Finally, things were going to be set right.

xxxxxxxxxx

**Thyferra**

Nurse Moria turned from the emergency room desk to find a well dressed man leaning heavily against the counter. Alarmed, she quickly asked "Sir, can I help you?"

He shook slightly before answering. "Is Dr. Stanton here? "

"I'm sorry, she left a while ago to assist the Medical Assistance Team."

"Where? It is imperative that I contact her."

She apologized. "I'm sorry, I can't give out that information." She gestured to Natir who quickly approached. "Natir is a friend, maybe she can give a message to Dr. Stanton."

The guy exhaled with frustration, "No, I have to talk to her about a medical condition. I have to talk to her in person."

Natir frowned, "I'm sorry, but all her cases are being worked by Dr. Ignace. If you wait a moment I can page him."

He shook his head again, and stood straighter, as if suddenly getting into a role. "Ma'm, I'm with the Nashaw Reef Home on Mon Calamari. It is about her mother."

Natir, looked at him alarmed, "Is everything all right with Mrs. Stanton?"

"No-which is why it is important that I speak to the Doctor. I need verbal confirmation on what to do next. All of her mail has bounced back."

Natir exchanged a glance with Nurse Moria before answering. "If you come with me, I'll send her a message telling her to comm immediately."

"If you give me her contact information, I have channels that can get the documents to her faster. We can't waste time, its life or death."

Natir glanced down at her hand, and then back at the Nurse who shrugged. Kel had given her explicit instructions not to give out her information… but if something was wrong with her mother…. "All right. She's on Tatooine."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

**_ Crystal Reef, Mon Calamari_**

****

_ Anja had worked as hard as she could manage. She had no strength in the Force, and her only special abilities with a light saber had come from having her body pumped up with andris spice. She was free of that addiction now, however. She would never use the spice again…but that also meant she would never feel the same rush again, the energy she had once considered a part of her strength. _

_ The lightsaber in her hand was a fraud, nothing more than an antique she had purchased from a peddler who specialized in Jedi artifacts. Anja knew how hard Zekk had worked to build his own sleek and simple weapon-and its hilt looked nothing like the heavy, ornate design of her energy blade. _

_ However, Zekk's lightsaber was real. He had earned his, and he knew how to use it. The Force had guided him. Anja's didn't belong to her, no matter what she had paid for it. It was a Jedi weapon, and she was not-nor would she ever be-a Jedi. Perhaps the light saber was itself a symbol of her addiction-her willingness to rely on something that was not part of her. _

_ Caught up in he restless thoughts, she swam around the fin of the minisub and saw something trapped between two struts in the support casing that held the rudder in place: a single remaining vial of andris spice, glittering and preserved in the frigid water. It must have caught there when they broke open the containers hidden under the ice caps, or when the sea monster had attacked them and consumed the rest of the stash. _

_ As if drawn by a magnet, Anja swam forward and plucked out the vial. It was pure andris. _

_ Anja hesitated. She could take it…treat herself to one last dose. _

_ She felt the yearning return inside her, a longing for that familiar surge of energy that made her feel so intensely alive. She knew it was more mental than physical. If she succumbed now, if she kept this dose for herself…it would be like voluntarily placing her hands into a set of stun-cuffs. She might as well lock herself up and become a prisoner of her own addiction once more. _

_ But Anja didn't want that. She didn't want it ever again._

_ She let the vial drift out of her hand. The small object floated there in front of her, taunting her, daring her to change her mind._

_ Anja locked her acid-yellow light saber on and, with an effort, swept down, slicing through the offensive vial. It disintegrated in a puff of seared materials. _

_ Then, as she stared down at the Jedi relic in her grasp, Anja knew she could never use it again. Deep inside, she felt a calm finality at this knowledge. _

_ Anja's cold fingers released their grip of the hilt and let the lightsaber drift away. Then with a feeling of satisfaction, Anja swam back to the warmth and companionship that waited for her aboard the minisub. _

xxxxxxxxx

**Coruscant**

Walking into the apartments he shared with Mara, Luke turned on the holonet broadcast, and trudged to the backroom to take a shower. He had begun the evening meeting with Corran's young son Valin, who had been having trouble working around his lack of telekinetic ability. It had been good to see Mirax again, and they had parted with a promise of hers to come by with some pre-imperial pieces that she thought might have been from the old Jedi Temple.

Then he had worked on some drills with Anakin, whose lightsaber skills improved with each passing day. It had been a somewhat full day, which was not quite finished.

Idly glancing at the data pad on the bed Luke thought about his plans to reinstate the Jedi Council. After much discussion, Leia had agreed that it may be a way to soothe the senate _and _be a good way to organize the order, but they would have to figure out how it would fit within the current New Republic hierarchy, if at all. Luke realized just how much he depended on Mara's input, when it came to matters such as this, especially when it came to sifting through the library of material that Winter was sending him from the Archives.

As he emerged from the refresher and made his way back towards the living area he glanced at the image on the screen and turned the volume up with curiosity.

"Today in a surprising announcement, Borsk Fey'lya proposed an corollary to the recently passed trade legislation."

The Bothan's voice emerged from the speakers. "I propose a bill that would place a light tariff on the exportation of military hardware, unless the planet agrees to accept provisions to import foodstuffs from the following planets…"

The helicopter's voice resumed speaking. "What is surprising about this announcement is that it came just before President Organa Solo's announcement that the contracts for the new XJ class fighter hardware had been awarded. Topping the list was Bothawaii's own Al'rik Corporation who is a major developer of hyperdrive and proton torpedo guidance systems. With the passage of this tarrif, the costs projected by Al'rik shall skyrocket. We contacted Senator Fey'lya's office for comment, and was refused."

The holovid focused on Borsk and his entourage leaving the Senate hall. Just a step behind the Bothan was a young human woman who looked as if she had just been on the receiving end of the Senator's anger.

Shaking his head Luke muted the holonet and moved towards the comm to retrieve his messages. Artoo trundled up next to him and whistled.

"No Artoo, I don't know when she'll be coming back. But we will be going back to Yavin IV in a few days."

The little droid rocked forward, and his dome swiveled. Glancing at him curiously Luke smiled, "Go ahead and lock up for the night, I'll be heading to bed soon enough." He watched the little droid trundle off toward the main entryway and then turned back to the comm unit to pull up the messages.

The image flickered, with lines traveling across the vid screen as the comm unit tried to adjust the quality of the message. Glancing at the time stamp Luke saw that it had arrived just moments before he had gotten home, and the path scrolling across the bottom of the screen indicated that it had been relayed directly from Yavin IV, after bouncing throughout the Outer Rim. Idly glancing at the moving figures on the holonet, he pursed his lips as the carnage from the Empress Teta system scrolled across the screen.

He had just come from a meeting with the Wurth Skidder and Tresina Lobi, whose account of the incident shed some light on the unfortunate catastrophe. A multiple speeder crash had occurred just beside one of the buildings structural pilings, one of the speeders had been carrying, more than the legal amount of fuel, which when ignited by the collision had revealed a flaw in the buildings superstructure. The chain effect had been horrendous, with a casualty toll of nearly 1400 being deemed missing or dead. Tresina and Wurth had come back to gather more provisions and Jedi before returning.

"Lu-ke," His head snapped towards the comm unit, feeling refreshed, just by hearing his name on her lips.

"Luke." He watched, as the image of his wife coalesced on the screen, and as the message played he sighed with relief.

"Hello, Skywalker, I see that you're not on Yavin, so I'm hoping that this will reach you on Coruscant before too long.

Events here in the Outer Rim appear to have settled down. I shall be returning shortly." Her messages had never been extremely detail oriented, and this one screamed typical Mara.

"There is a vision that needs discussing. I hope to arrive back at Yavin and find you there." The screen flickered again, and her image seemed to waver before adding, "I love you farmboy. "

Flicking some controls, Luke played back the message, and paused it. Though still grainy from the distance, he examined her image with a measure of concern.

She looked tired. Fine lines along her eyes, tightened through lack of sleep gave her away, but with the tilt of her shoulders, and the set of her jaw, he could tell that her mission, to some extent had been a success. Leaning forward, he let his gloved hand brush against the screen before searching through the Force for her presence.

It was faint, but coming closer. A low whistle drew his glance towards Artoo's powering unit. "Yes Artoo, we're going home."

**End Post 5**

**Credit: Everything in this post is mine... with the exception of the section near the end on Anja Gallandro. That is from _Crisis at Crystal _Reef pp 161-163. Reviews appreciated. ******

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	10. Post 6

**a/n Are there any reviewers out there? Comments good or bad are appreciated. Make sure to check out the credits at the bottom. We have reached the end of ****Part****I.**** Part II shall commence on March 5th. **

**Post 6**

**Tatooine****- Anchorhead**

The messenger boy sprinted through the streets of Anchorhead kicking up dust as he ran toward the NREMAT complex. For the doctors and nurses it had been another slow morning, dealing with vaccinating a group of young children against the Galaxy's most common ailments. When he came rushing by them, it was clear that something had happened. In anticipation they observed his course into the central building, and not wholly unexpectedly watched Dr. Keladry Stanton rush out. Immediately she began spitting out orders.

"There's been a Tusken Raider attack just outside Mos Eisley. Some of the second NREMAT team is on the scene, but they need help. Command said they need the mass crisis team, so Romani, Rantic and Akil meet Nestor at the bay in two minutes. Syla, Medel, and Genai pair up with them, just in case they need more hands. "

Fifteen minutes later they were landing on the far side of Mos Eisely, and Nestor could see from the view port just how bad the damage was.

Someone swore beside him. "Was that a wedding? _Svali__ godai tub."_Shocked, Nestor looked up to see Syla peering intently out the window.

"A wedding or some sort of celebration. How many do you think were there? Fifty, a hundred?" He kept his voice soft, respectful and brought _Selanore_down for a quick landing. Punching the comm, he pulled out of his restraints and followed Syla towards the ramp where the other five passengers were already descending with supplies.

Hefting one of the larger boxes filled with sterile equipment, he took three strides down the ramp almost bumping into an official running towards him. "Alluvia, we need to transport the more serious cases to the hospital at Anchorhead and Bestine. I'm sending Dr.Gile with you. Come, we'll need your muscles."

Another ten minutes had flown by and Nestor was up in the air again flying back towards Anchorhead. For the rest of the day he flew in a triangle, depositing patients, and picking up supplies. By the end of the second trip he was sweating in concentration, trying to keep the trip as smooth as possible.

The situation on the ground was another matter, and Tristan working with Syla watched two elderly victims die, while two children left with just quick bleeding flesh wounds. He had long since deposited his coverings and his light white tunic was stained with splashes of red, as he leaned over to clot an arterial bleed. "Does anyone know why they attacked." He held out his hand for a suture kit and some more gauze.

Slapping them into her hand, she shook her head. "No," She checked the instrument panel, "She's leveling out. Stable, although her heart rate is just a smidgen above normal."

Tristan ran his hand across his forehead leaving a smear of blood. "All right, send her over with the next load. He looked over his shoulder, ignoring the thrill of adrenaline surging through him, despite the intense heat. "Who's next? " He turned to his nurse and grimaced. "We're lucky the wind is down or we would be dealing with infections tomorrow." Someone from the other team brought a teenage boy before him, carrying him in a blanket while he cradled his shoulder. He was the first conscious victim Tristan had seen in four hours. He looked down at the boy, hiding his relief that perhaps the worst was over.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Romani. I'm going to try and help you. Can you tell me where it hurts?"

xxx

Nestor brought the ship down at Bestine, shut off the comm, and made his way to the hold. With the help of the gray haired doctor that had been monitoring the patients, successfully unloaded his eight patients before closing the ramp. Taking off for a mere thirty seconds, he softly maneuvered the _Selanore_inside the circular docking bay where he could see three tiny beings waiting to begin the refueling process.

He flipped open his comm and contacted the main base. "This is Alluvia, I just unloaded but I'm doing a quick refueling. ETA is going to be + 10 minutes. "

"That's fine, the critical have all been transported. I think we'll be done when you get back. " Nestor signed off and tapped the elderly doctor on the shoulder, who was attempting, for the large part, to set up for the next load.

He pointed to the off ramp, relayed the message about possibly not having any more loads, and then added, "We're doing a quick refueling, and I am going to go check for packages while we wait. "

The doctor nodded, and Nestor made his way down the ramp, turning towards the docking bay's receiving area. Behind the window was an old X-10 droid, who was a combination of protocol and service. He leaned casually leaned on the counter and muttered. "Mail for NREMAT-Anchorhead."

The droid, whistled and beeped before, with his multiple arms, retrieving a box with labeled holodiscs. Nestor checked his watch, _three minutes to go_, and began the quick trip back towards the waiting ship. A hundred yards away, the corridor he was in branched off to the bay next door, and as he passed it he heard a familiar voice. Pausing midstep he contemplated his options, his curiosity overtaking his caution. While he was sure he had heard it at least once before, he couldn't place the _where _or the _when_.

Checking the time again he jogged a few steps past the office glancing into the small room about 20 feet down. A shipping-transport office, it was currently occupied by an aged Toydiarian, Rodian and a human male smoking a cigar. He didn't recognize any of the three, and while the voice of the human still tickled a memory, it wasn't worth asking about. Shrugging, he jogged back towards his ship, reaching it as the pumps were being unplugged.

Securing the on ramp, he made sure the doctor was restrained behind him before tossing the box of mail into the co-pilot seat. Then, with the ease and elegance of a bird in the wild, he guided his ship quickly back over the 200 kilometers to Mos Eisley.

xxxxx

Tristan's entire body ached when the _Selanore_ finally landed back at Anchorhead. As the team stumbled down the ramp, someone pushed a skein of water into his hand, and he stood still, gulping down the liquid, taking the time to drink his fill. It was still light out, and some of the victims of the attack were fighting for their lives, but the NREMAT team had fulfilled its purpose, and the med centers, while not state-of-the-art, were adequate to the task. He passed the skein to Dr. Akil, who shook his head after tapping the self-serving tank which allowed him to survive on a desert planet. Instead it was quickly grasped by Syla who gratefully placed its cool exterior to her forehead. Glancing back for Nestor, Tristan spotted him coming down the ramp with a small box.

"What is that?" He asked, noticing the slight look of guilt on Nestor's face. Inwardly Tristan grimaced, knowing that Nestor still bore some guilt for the mishap three weeks ago.

Covering quickly, Nestor looked at him, his lips turning up in a grin. "Mail, it was with our shipments on that last turn through the capital. I picked it up while I was being refueled."

"That'll make everyone happy." That was an understatement. Long distance holocomm's cost a fortune to send from anywhere on Tatooine, so when the mail finally made its way through NREMAT HQ and found its way to the subsidiary planets it was often long overdue. Shrugging, Tristan wandered off to go get cleaned up, ignoring the slight stab of jealousy he was feeling. _Why in sith would I care if I didn't get any mail?_ Day-to-Day things had been easier for him of late, if one did not count the infrequent dreams he had of killing Iker Rafagr. _Are those the only dreams you're having?_ Tristan ignored the taunting voice, and released a breath of air. Overall he had been getting more sleep, and actually admitted that he was happier than he had been for a long time. The night before he had actually contemplated that he had, perhaps, left the past behind him.

Unfortunately, the tinge of jealousy coupled with the dreams said otherwise.

It was late when he stepped out of the fresher, but he finally felt comfortable again. Most of the sand had been removed, and there was a vague sense of joy at being clean. He was buckling the belt to his tunic, running his finger through his rough dark hair trying to dry it, when a sharp knock caught his attention.

For a moment he hesitated, listening to see if anyone else was in the dwelling, but no other being moved in the stillness. After a moment the knocking persisted and he quickly jogged, his bare feet slapping on the sandstone floor, to open the door. He had cracked it no more than an inch, when it was forced open by uncommon strength. For a instant he struggled to regain his balance in the din before he looked up trying to catch his first glimpse of his visitor. In a rather uncharacteristic manner, the petite form of his Thyferran colleague, her black hair disheveled, had burst almost angrily into the dwelling, and had, just as quickly slammed it shut, securing the latch.

It was only then, after she had leaned her head against the door with the appearance of relief that he reached for her shoulder.

It had barely made contact, when, with a flailing of apprehension she turned to look at him. There was a rush of fear at her panic stricken expression.

"Doctor Stanton."

Her voice breathy and high, her eyes darting around the room. None to gently, she pushed past him through the kitchen and into the hallway. "Where's Nestor?"

"Last I saw he was distributing the mail-"

"Yes, the mail, the mail." She spoke inwardly, to herself. Her right hand was clutching something in a death grip, while her left hand lay limp at her side. Tristan looked at her fist. Open. Close. Open. Close. Open.

"Doctor Stanton?" His voice was cautious, not wanting to startle her any more than was necessary. He followed her into the dining area, "Sit down." He jogged back to the cooling unit and stared- W_hat had she been drinking that day? _Remembering he pulled out a container of blue milk and poured it into a glass.

When he reentered the dining area, she was standing frozen in place while her lips moved as if in prayer. "Doctor Stanton?" Placing the glass on the table, he pulled out a chair and slowly lowered his hands towards her shoulder. For the barest of moments he hesitated, hovering centimeters above touching her, worried about the reaction. "I'm going to help you sit down." Softly, barely applying any pressure, he led her to the chair, pushing down in a silent urge to have her sit. She complied, though he could now tell that fear was radiating off of her.

Tristan sat next to her. "Doctor..." He paused, knowing after three repetitions of her name that he wasn't going to capture her attention. "Keladry," Her head snapped towards him. "How can I help?"

Silent, her hazel eyes, now darker and wider, she held out the palm of her right hand, in which she held a black flimsy, backed by a heavier board.

Tristan knew what it was before he caught a clear glimpse. Gently, he took her wrist in his and pried the piece of mail from her hands. It was like ice.

"Did you walk over here without a coat Keladry?" Her attention had reverted to the note, and she stared at it, a soft whimper escaping her chattering lips. Moving for a moment, Tristan grabbed a blanket from his room and draped it over her shoulders. Settling back into his seat he looked at the card, trying not to show his distaste and disgust.

He had seen a card like this once before, on Thyferra and had briefly talked to Nestor about its existence. Here it was again, but unlike the first one, which was largely an expression of love, this one was obviously of hate.

The flimsy had a brief message scrawled across it, and as with the other message there was a tiny holo of Keladry, this afternoon sitting in the communications hut at the NREMAT complex. She was looking straight ahead, and smiling.

_Don't worry, when I'm done there won't ever be a smile on your face again. I will always be here. Don't run again._

He exhaled, and looked at the woman before him taking in her clearly altered state. _There is so much evil out there, with one letter he has destroyed her happiness, taken away her freedom. _

_Much like Iker..._He quickly banished the thought, bringing his focus back to the woman before him.

"Keladry..." She snapped out of it as if seeing him for the first time.

"Tristan?" She looked around, clearly trying to watch the door. "How…How did I get here."

He leaned forward in his seat and grasped her hand, right in right. "You walked, without a coat." Gently he held out his left hand and she unthinkingly placed it in his left. Slowly he began to rub them, trying to work some blood into the system.

"Can we go somewhere...where I can watch the door?" The tone of her voice was back, that lilting breathy sound.

Tristan looked around and then pulled her gently to his room, leaving the door open for propriety's sake, and sat in his desk chair. While his back was turned she had scooted to the corner, wrapping the blanket around her, eyes still wide but a little more focused.

"He found me Tristan."

He nodded, "I know. "

"He's never going to leave me alone." She shuddered. "I..I…"

Tristan found her name flowing from his lips with much more ease than he expected. "Keladry, if I can help, we will protect you. You're not alone."

"I'm not?" The question was odd, as if it had been spoken at the edge of a cliff before a long fall…and then she began to sob, heaving, shaking. Tristan found himself leaping to the bed to hold her, knowing that she needed tactile evidence that she wasn't alone, but on some level, and he knew it was ludicrous, he felt as if he was betraying Elbereth by holding another woman in his arms.

"Shhh, Shh." He didn't pay attention to how long she cried, but he knew that both Dr. Rantic and Raoul had looked in at the noise, leaving quickly when Tristan had shook his head quietly. When Nestor came bounding in, his face carrying his own expression of excited bewilderment and satisfaction he stopped him and pointed to the kitchen table, mouthing, "Today, in the mail." Returning quickly, Nestor was stone faced and calculating-much how he had been during the initial revolution against Bran.

He sat in the desk chair and watched the floor, thinking-Tristan could almost see his synapses functioning-until Keladry grew quiet. Tristan slowly drew away, thinking she was asleep, having exhausted herself, but instead she whispered hoarsely.

"You aren't really cousins are you?" Surprised Tristan and Nestor's eyes met, before looking at her now up turned face, leaning against Tristan's chest. It was a guarded look, one drained of emotion, but it was clear the question she posed was not a figment of madness. "I need to know, I need to trust...," Her voice broke, then grew stronger. "I need honesty."

Tristan looked at Nestor, who carefully, closed the door halfway-making sure that no one was in the hall.

Nestor spoke cautiously, "It is your story to tell, your highness." It was the first time that Nestor had uttered his title in months, but it was his way of showing deference to the situation.

Tristan hesitated, then spoke softly, pulling Keladry up so that she sat without his support, but when he tried to stand and put some distance between them, she wouldn't let go. "My name is Tristan Romani, the only living heir to the Romani's of Valdet, a planet in the outer rim. Until recently, I was the Royal ruler, with my wife Elbereth Morodin of the dual planetary system where her world, Danshitie, and mine are located."

He released a breath, "Nestor Alluvia and I are not cousins. He is my bodyguard, my sanity, but above all else, he is my friend." He looked at Nestor, his gaze steady, repeating for his benefit as much as hers, "No, not cousins."

There was a momentary silence, and then the security and investigative side of Nestor appeared. "Do you know how he found you?"

Keladry started to shake her head no, but as if it had just occurred to her, she pulled out another disc. Hesitating, "My friend, Natir, wrote to me of a man who came to visit her with urgent paperwork regarding my mother. " Now it was her turn to grow silent. "She's in a long-term care facility on Mon Calamari. In Stasis."

Tristan and Nestor looked at each other before looking back at Keladry. Each was calculating the implication of Keladry's mother being in danger, something had not registered yet with the pretty doctor. Tristan prodded, "What else does she say?"

"That…that she gave him my information so that they could help my mother more quickly. She told me she thought that I should contact the hospital, because the man seemed unstable, and unreliable."

"Descriptions? "

Keladry withdrew deeper into the covers, still clinging to Tristan. "No." Another sob broke out and she suppressed it, looking at the bed spread in an attempt to calm down. She was quiet, and then slowly…slowly…her head drooped, and her breathing evened as she fell asleep.

It was only then that Tristan was able to remove her from his side, placing the blanket over her.

Together, the other two occupants moved outside the room. As Nestor attempted to close the door Tristan shook his head. "She needs to be able to see us if she awakes." The bodyguard nodded.

Their tones remained hushed, "We need to make sure she is protected, but we need to make sure nothing changes."

"We can't keep something like this a secret." Tristan was practical.

"We should tell the main staff, but no one else. We need eyes, lots of eyes."

"I was unconscious in Thyferra for weeks, you should try and stay in town, see if you recognize anyone,"

Nestor hesitated, and suddenly Tristan remembered the pilot's excitement when he had walked into his room.

Tristan placed a hand on his forearm, "What?"

"I may have found us a lead." Nestor's eyes met his, watching as Tristan took in his meaning.

"Iker?" His voice was disbelieving, almost ambivalent.

"Iker." Carefully, Nestor elaborated on the events at Bestine, how he recognized the voice but couldn't place it. "It was the cigar that reminded me. I swear that he may be the man who transported Iker to Thyferra."

Tristan looked to the open door, the white hot anger surging to the top of his emotions. His eyes narrowed. Two roads lay open for him, two options. He had to choose.

Finally he sought Nestor's gaze, "We can't leave Tatooine until she's taken care of. " With great care, he struggled to control his feelings, "You need to leave early in the morning. Tell me what security plans you have, and I'll implement them, but you get to Bestine and hope he hasn't left yet."

Nestor nodded, not really concealing his surprise. "And you, Doctor?"

"I'll make sure she's safe. " _Now is not the time._ Tristan took a deep breath, halfheartedly, worriedly trying to push down the flash of anger that always accompanied a discussion of Iker Rafagr.

xxxx

It was late the next evening when Tristan found himself fidgeting as Nestor settled _Selanore_ to the ground, a smaller transport next to him. Moments later the clump of Nestor's boots were heard as the well-oiled ramp opened. Twenty-four hours ago, _Twenty-four hours ago_ Tristan had been content, able to recognize the impossibility of finding Iker in a galaxy filled with star systems, humans, non-humans, sentiants and non-sentiants….

Now, it was all back, a regression-his single minded adrenaline urge to _kill._

Rather, to kill Iker Rafgr. Tristan felt the hypocrisy, that as a doctor he had a mandate to protect life, but he couldn't help but feel, deep within his soul that this was _right_.

This time was different. No injuries, no residual pain, no self-denial for medical aid, this time he would not lose sight of the moral path. This time was different.

His quick gray eyes darted across Nestor's face, but as usual it was emotionless, fearless, an embodiment of strength. Tristan opened his mouth and winced inwardly as he spoke. "Well?" The query sounded harsh, even to his own ears.

Nestor turned back towards the smaller ship, as if waiting for someone, and within moments a broad shouldered being smoking a cigar ambled down the open ramp. For the first time, Tristan caught a glimpse of the man who had transported Iker across the galaxy. Had he known what the man's crimes, would he have still transported him? _Of course, look at him, he's a smuggler._

Nestor kept his voice quiet, deferential. "Sir, this is Lambinth Popast. He is the being who transported our _friend_ to Thyferra." Tristan's eyes darted from the newcomer's face back to Nestor's, picking up on the slight alteration to truth.

Again he repeated himself, "Well?"

Then smuggler grunted, casually puffed on the small stub of his cigar, the ring of glowing embers lighting up the corners of his thin mouth. He sniffed, shrugged and then tossed the remains to the ground before hitching to his full height. "I did transport a gentleman to Thyferra from Valdet a couple of months ago." Almost like a psychic scar, Tristan felt his hart harden. This man's voice was one more reminder…

"I dropped him off at the main spaceport, expecting it to be the end of it. I probably wouldn't have remembered, except that he approached me again, asking to be dumped core-ward."

"Where?" This time there was no remorse.

The man's eyes flickered towards Nestor then back to Tristan weighing his words. "I'm not sure if I can recall…"

Nestor took a step towards the man, "Do we need to discuss this again?" For a moment, the smuggler appeared unfazed, and then his pupils widened, and Tristan saw the glint of Nestor's blaster. "I told him my next pick up was on near Borealis, so he said I could drop him off on Coruscant, but he could be anywhere by now."

Tristan was not to be dismayed. "There's more."

"I..I think he said something about Mon Calamari, or Cordu-ji. I..I'm not sure. He spent a lot of his time looking over navigation maps, almost as if he was trying to identify specific location."

The man looked warily at the blaster, "He used the name Reef Niln."

Tristan glanced at Nestor whose jaw had hardened. He kept his words gracious, dampening down the adrenaline. _Why would Iker change his name? _Tristan felt a surge of bitterness. _At least it is something to work with, even though it'll just be one more dead end. _"Thank you." Waiting until the man ducked into his own ship, Tristan turned to Nestor. "We're under contract with NREMAT, and we need the money." His voice was flat.

Nestor looked at the burning fire within Tristan's eyes, recognizing the sense of déjà vu from their departure from Valdet. There was more control, more violence. He listened with chagrin, as Tristan's face grew harder. "Iker Rafagr, will meet his destiny, or else."

xxx

_Naturally, I went with them. Distraught as I was, the NREMAT director on Tatooine could not allow me to remain on staff, especially with the danger posed to myself, promising to keep their wary eyes to strangers._

_But my fear was, what if he wasn't a stranger? _

_How could I know? _

_The flexibility with NREMAT's operations was ideal, I was able to transfer to the Mon Calamari research team, to be closer to my mother, recognizing the danger that both Tristan and Nestor had sensed. _

_I think I will be forever indebted to their help that night…I had run away from Thyferra to protect my friends, to protect my loved one's-not realizing that they were the ones who had kept me sane, kept me grounded. _

_Nestor and Tristan had orders to pick up medical equipment only available on Mon Cal so as to provide further aid to victims of the Empress Teta disaster, and so they found themselves ideally placed for continued research on this specter that they hunted. _

_In the months to follow, I found myself worried for them, uncertain of the resurgence of determination in Tristan's eyes, unsure of our futures. We had both forged a connection, and while it would be almost four months before we met again, we both knew that it could only grow stronger._

_While our worlds fell apart, we would grasp for concrete hope that life would continue…_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Yavin**** IV**

Mara Jade could shut down her ship with her eyes closed and both arms tied behind her back. Yet, she took her time maneuvering the ship on the landing pad next to the Great Temple, and then with due deference, painstakingly walked through the cool down cycle before moving towards the back of the ship. Pacing, she stood for a moment looking to the right down the hallway to the rest of the ship, and then to the off ramp where she knew she would finally have to think about the events that had transpired on Valdet.

Letting out a groan of frustration she made her way through to her bunk and as she leaned over to grab the pack on the bed she spotted the Ewok doll that Wes Janson had left for her after her stint with Wraith squadron. A memory of his polka-dotted face flittered across her mind, and her worries momentarily receded to the background. _Janson's__ Revenge…_

"Trying to come up with an appropriate form of retribution?" She was across the room and into his arms before half the sentence was out his mouth, and she could feel Luke's surprise at this almost unnatural display of affection. Mara didn't care, she could take whatever came her way, whatever the Force threw at her, and as long as Luke was around she knew that she did not fear loneliness. _Wait a second…_

"Luke, how did you get on board? The new security features I installed make it impossible for anyone to…" She stopped as his blue eyes twinkled mirthfully at her indignation.

"I only learn from the best." Before she could say anything else Luke silenced her with a soft kiss on the lips. "Mara, welcome back."

She kissed him back, taking in his scent, before slipping out of the embrace to grab her bag. As she brushed past him, and he tried to grab the bag from her, Mara shot him an amused look, "I didn't know you cared Luke Skywalker." _Shut down the ship, please? _His confusion was evident as she pulled the bag close and continued of the ship without another word.

Minutes later, after the interior lights on the ship had been shut down, Mara was standing paces away, once again retreating back into her thoughts.

_Mara…_

Slowly she turned and saw him, standing in the doorway to the off ramp, leaning on his eyes confused that along with the innocent farm boy look made her heart melt. His voice carried far into the night, his tone exhibiting a remnant of his youth. "Mara, I _do_ care."

Tossing her head back she laughed aware that she was acting awkward, and a bit self-consciously. Without ceremony she dumped her bag on the ground unclipping her light saber from her waist. "Well come on then, I've been on that ship far too long, I need a little bit of exercise."

He grinned, jogged down the ramp until he was directly in front of her, holding his lightsaber deceptively loose in his palm. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Though the next few moments seemed to stretch for eternity, the two Jedi were cognizant of its limits, waiting for the other to attack. They were aware of the soft breeze, pricking across bare skin signaling the start of the night cycle.

In the end it was Luke who made the first move, attempting to push his wife off guard by swinging high but changing directions midway, and in the hastening twilight the new light creating an ephemeral glow, creating an almost macabre image of each other. Blue on Green sizzled upon impact, and Mara Jade Skywalker lost all conscious contact with the duel, slipping smoothly into a sublime zone where the Force dictated her movements.

Mara knew she was stalling; she had been struggling to come to terms with the events in the cave the entire trip back to Yavin. Restless meditation, sleepless nights had all been useless, leaving her just as tired as she had been when she left Valdet. Her mind was churning with urgency, as if she were racing the Boonta Eve Classic with her eyes closed.

Was she really afraid of being alone? Or was there some deeper meaning in the Force's message? What was the crucial piece that she was missing?

Left, Right…step back, flip. She was on the defensive, speeding her moves, but as an automaton not really recognizing her actions, just reacting. Her eyes were narrow slits, brow furrowed in concentration existing within her own, self-constructed world.

Forward, back.

Forward, back.

Forward, back. Dusk now past, they moved within the same area of space, locked in an even struggle, neither tiring, and Luke was determined to stick it out. He knew she was working on some problem, he recognized that for some meditation was not always the answer.

Inside, in her mind, Mara was stuck, with no room to maneuver. _What am I not seeing? _She replayed the vision, hearing the mocking words: _Survivor, Survivor, Survivor_, seeing the images from Mt. Tantiss and the Outbound Flight project….All events connected with her past, her Imperial past. At Mt. Tantiss she had severed her connection to her former life, but she was still Mara Jade, former Emperor's Hand…independent, perhaps less isolated, but fiercely protective. Not moving forward, unable to ever move back.

Seeing Chak Fel and Vader's Fist had momentarily sucked her back into that middle ground where she wondered, albeit briefly, of what her place would be within a _new _Empire. Her mind raced, remembering what it was like those few years after the destruction of the second Death Star where she was without an identity, without the glamour, and smells and life that had _belonged _to her. It brought her back to that time, when she was a hyperdrive mechanic on Varonat struggling with the Emperor's last gift to his Hand. _In_ Limbo… Not moving forward, unable to move back.

The events since she had met Luke had whittled away at her insular existence, stripping her of her shields showing her the path to finding her place, guiding her to this very moment….

Again, the voice asked:

_What do you fear? _Suddenly, for the first time, she could answer honestly….

_I am afraid not of loneliness, but of being left behind, of waking up one day to find that the galaxy has continued on, never noticing my absence. _

_I am afraid that after having regained so much sense of self, true independence, that I will not find a place where my past does not represent only who I was then but also dictates who I am today. _

She couldn't know, but with every epiphany, every self-realization, to Luke's chagrin, she pushed forward, her blows becoming tighter, stronger and more fluid.

_I am afraid of never being able to move forward, of not accepting the gifts that I have been given, and being stuck again-in Limbo. Seeing the ruins of that palace, of a life destroyed suddenly, without notice…the Force was with me, speaking to me even then, showing me that there is a place where my past can no longer control my future. At some point, I have to look at the face staring out from the mirror and see myself. _

Like in the cave, her other self, the ethereal voice questioned once more. _And who are you? _

Her lips turned up into a smirk, her eyes flashed open, glinting with knowledge as they reflected the rising stars above Yavin.

She was Mara Jade Skywalker, Jedi Master.

Stunned, Luke felt the surge of light side power, and found himself struggling to keep track of her speed, ducking as the blade swung towards his neck. Astonished he looked at his wife's face, and found…heaven. No longer an automaton he could tell that she was barely reacting to his actions, she was relying on pure instinct, on the Force sensing his moves before they even happened. She was that fast.

With each blow, Luke was aware of the silent dance that was taking them into all corners of the landing pad, he was aware of the rustle of breath, the ragged rhythm of his steps as he struggled to keep up. And in a simple parody of her fight with his clone on Mount Tantiss, he found himself against the wall of the Great Temple, but with a very different ending. Mid-swing, Mara stopped, extinguishing her blade before it did any damage, but kept her arm extended locked into position, etching the memory into her mind. With a ragged voice, trying to catch her breath, she whispered.

_"_Kill point." Silence followed as both Jedi recorded this moment, this time, this place.

In the glow of the torches whose flickering flames created an almost sacred alter, Luke extinguished his blade, and then slowly, with all the respect and deference he could muster, bowed. "Congratulations," he paused, channeling all his love through their bond, "_Master."_

xxxx

Later that night, lying in each others arms in their quarters Mara filled him in about the events on Valdet and then, with confidence, her experience in the cave. While they had shared their joy of her realization, Mara still felt like her experiences had another purpose to serve.

"Do you think it was a warning?" She whispered, eyes closed.

_Maybe_. His silent answer prodded her to open her eyes and for a moment they were silent lost within each other's presences. He kept his voice low and controlled. "Worry about what you can controlYour faith is in the Force, and thus…"

She finished for him, "…the rest will fall in place_." _

Her lips turned up into a reflective, sleepy smile. "I love you, Luke Skywalker"

Wiping a stray lock of hair from her face, he leaned over and kissed her lightly on her forehead, then, pulling her against his chest they fell asleep.

xxxxx

_ With the Crisis finally over, the return trip from Kessel to the Jedi academy was uneventful. The companions-Zekk, Jaina and Anja in the Lightening Rod, and Tenel Ka, Jacen , Lowie and Em Teedee aboard the Rock Dragon-spent the time exchanging stories of their adventures. _

_ When they all arrived at the landing field on Yavin 4, with its lush jungle surrounding the spectacular ancient pyramids, Master Skywalker himself was there to welcome them back. _

_ Wearing a mock-stern expression on his face, the Jedi Master looked around at the young Jedi Knights and Anja and Em Teedee. "I just received an enlightening message from a former student of mine on Mon Calamari, Ambassador Cilghal. I'm not sure I understand why the administration at Crystal Reef wants me, _your aunt,_ Han and Leia to take an all expense-paid vacation there." _

_ Luke pursed his lips and gave a slow bemused shake of his head. "And I got a glowing message a few minutes ago from Nien Nunb on Kessel. He thanked me repeatedly for allowing you to stay long enough to help him fix his transmitter…?"_

_ He shook his head again, as if he could hardly believe what he had heard. "I thought I sent all of you out to find a friend who was in trouble—not to save the entire __New__Republic__ from a hostile financial takeover." The stern set of his lips softened into a proud smile. "I wonder if I'll ever stop being surprised by the things my students manage to accomplish when they work together." _

_ The companions looked at each other, somewhat embarrassed. _

_ "Anyway, now I have a surprise for you, the __New__Republic__ has decided to hold a celebration her in a few days-and its about time, after all the work you've done. I think you're all going to receive some long-overdue appreciation, after defeating the __Shadow__Academy__ and thwarting the Diversity __Alliance__, and now Black Sun. Our first guests should be here by the evening meal. But before they start arriving, I'd like the chance to speak with each of you alone. We have some important issues to discuss about your future. All of you." _

_ "Luke-Master Skywalker?" Anja spoke hesitantly. "If you wouldn't mind, sir, I'd like to be first." _

_ The Jedi Master looked into her large eyes for a long moment and then nodded. "I see you've come a long way." _

_xxxx_

****

_ On the day of the actual ceremony, in the midst of all the furor, the companions managed to steal away to the platform on the top of the __Great__Temple__ and find some quiet time together. Anakin and Tahiri sat at one side of the platform, dangling their bare feet over the edge, while the fluffy creature Ikrit, their frequent companion, basked in the sun beside them. _

_ At one corner of the platform, Raynar and the cinnamon-maned centaur girl, Lusa, sparred with stunsticks. Lowie, Em Teedee, Jaina, Zekk and Anja arranged themselves along another side of the platform to watch the busy landing field. Having just finished taking care of his menagerie of animals, Jacen now joined his friends, his fluffy blue pet gort riding on his shoulder. Tenel Ka, just finished with her morning's calisthenics, dashed up one of the staircases at the four corners of the __Great__Temple__ to meet them. _

_ When they were all together, Anja said, "I guess this is bout as good a time as any to say good-bye. I'll be laving after the ceremony." _

_ "Why?" Jacen asked, sounding the slightest bit disappointed. _

_ "Because I don't belong here," Anja said. "I've got to do something with my life, but being trained in the Force just isn't it."_

_ "So, where are you going?" Zekk asked. _

_ Anja shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I can't stay at the Jedi academy. I'm not a Jedi. But you all are-you belong together."_

_ "We will not always be together, however," Tenel Ka said. Lowie woofed his agreement. _

_ "Right," Jaina added. "We all just had that long talk with Uncle Luke. You know, the one that goes, 'Now that you're more or less a full Jedi, you have to think about what you want to do in life.'"_

Sitting along their edge of the Great Temple, Anakin waved as Lando Calrissian made his way up the steep steps. Shielding his eyes for a moment, he elbowed Tahiri.

"Hey stupid."

"Yes?" Tahiri turned towards him, her blond curls swishing in the light.

"Wanna bet that Lando is going to offer Anja Gallandro a job?"

"What are we betting?"

Smirking, Anakin leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"No, way." Tahiri shook her head, "Never going to happen."

Anakin looked at his best friend. "You're scared that you'll lose."

The younger Jedi bit her lip, then sighed, "Fine, I'm in, but if you lose, your punishment is going to be ten times worse."

Both of them watched as Lando and Anja began walking towards them, catching Anja's last few words…"If you're really interested in giving people a chance to reform, I know this guy named Lilmit. I think he could really use a job, too…"

Tahiri turned to Anakin, with a horrified expression on her face…"Please, no shoes…don't make me wear shoes…pretty please?" His presence was light, laughing, and as she sensed something peculiar in Anakin's force presence, her lips turned into a frown. "You knew! Anakin Solo, no fair! I'll get you for this!" Their laughter carried over to the larger group, where Tenel Ka glanced back to see what the noise was before approaching Anakin's brother.

_"Jacen, my friend?__ Would now be an appropriate time to ask about the item you intended to give me?" _

_"Sure, I brought it with me," Jacen said, reaching into the pocket of his rumpled brown jumpsuit. He held the object out to her. Irregular shards of translucent pearly pink dangled from a knotted cord of fine leather. "It's a necklace," he explained unnecessarily. "I made it from the shards of Nicta's gort egg. Many cultures consider it to be very precious-the egg, I mean." The gort sat angelically on his shoulder. _

_Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Jacen could have sworn that some sort of liquid shimmered in Tenel Ka's gray eyes when she said, "it is beautiful, Jacen, my friend. Would you please assist me in putting it on?" _

_Jacen__ reached both arms beneath her red-gold warrior braids to tie the thong at the back of her neck. _

_Before he could finish, Tenel Ka pulled him in a strong embrace and said, "I will treasure your gift more than all the rainbow gems of Gallinore."_

_Zekk__ put an arm around Jaina. "I don't have a necklace for you, but you can be my copilot-or my pilot-anytime you want."_

_Resting her head on his shoulder, Jaina chuckled. "Don't think I wont' take you up on that. Besides, necklaces aren't exactly my style."_

_Lowie__ looked thoughtfully, longingly up at the sky. He rumbled a mellow comment. "Indeed?" Em Teedee replied. "Well, I'm afraid I, for one, shall never understand these humans." _

_xxxxxx_

Never one for ceremony, Mara was thoughtful as she and the rest of the Jedi raised their lightsaber's in salute to the young Jedi Knights accomplishments over the past three years. Though fully trained, they lacked a full breadth of experience that was essential to the perseverance of the order. Therefore, together with the other, older Jedi, Luke had developed a plan where each new knight would be apprenticed as a next step to preparing them.

Listening to Tionne's ballad of the fall of the Shadow Academy, Diversity Alliance and the threat of the Black Sun she was overcome with a measure of emotion. Legends were being made here tonight, and Mara only hoped that the grounding of values given to each of these knights, still within their adolescence, would help them to keep their bearings. Mara had chosen to remain part of the greater band of Jedi, instead of on the dais, where Han, Luke and Leia had stood after the destruction of the first Death Star, partially because it was where she belonged, but also because she fully recognized herself as one of the order.

She nodded her head at the dignitaries that she passed, making her way towards the front of the grand audience chamber where the rest of her family waited.

As she caught Luke's eye, his smile was proud…not only for his niece and nephews but also for her and her recent accomplishments.

"Congratulations Jaina, Jacen, Anakin."

Jaina grinned, somewhat abashed by all the attention. "Thank you Aunt Mara-" she paused before correcting herself. "Master Jade Skywalker."

"Don't you forget it, _Apprentice Solo._" Mara's tone was teasing, before she turned to Luke. "Skywalker, who _didn't_ you tell?"

Before he could answer, Han, whose hand was on his youngest son's shoulder noted with a wry smile, "If ol' Kenobi could see me now…"

Mara ribbed him back, "Oh I'm sure he's laughing at his vindication." Glancing at the group she looked at her brother-in-law with curiosity. "Where's Leia?"

He tilted her head to the corner of the dais where Leia was deep in conversation with a group of Senators, while simultaneously holding her comm to her lips. "Duty calls."

Sympathetically, Mara caught Leia's eye and was startled when she beckoned her over. She excused herself, cautiously approaching the group.

"Master Jade Skywalker, " Leia's tone was formal indicating that she was about to ask for something, and was giving her a way out without the pull of family connections.

"Madame President?" Mara tipped her head in greeting to the other Senators.

"May I introduce Liragop, a Sunesi from Monor II, " and "General Dilanti of Zartoc IV, currently residing in Exile on Coruscant."

Turning to the diplomats Mara bowed slightly, "How can I help you?"

"Well, Master Jade Skywalker," it was the General who spoke first. "The Sunesi have just invited me and many other diplomats to the accession of the tenth priest-prince Agapos the Tenth." His oval eyes appraised Leia before continuing. "As per Chief of State Organa Solo's recommendation, I would like to request if the Jedi may be able to provide support for my delegation."

"Is there a reason you fear a bodyguard is necessary?" Mara was blunt, questioning.

Again he sought Leia's assurance to continue. "There is a newly formed group, a splinter group that has been opposed to my policies connected to Monor II. They have threatened my life, and have already sabotaged my offices on Zartoc IV. It is essential, in order to remain in cooperative agreement with the Sunesi, that I attend this event of high importance. Unless support is provided, I cannot."

Mara thought for a second, trying to remember what she knew of Monor II, a planet which was known for its outdoor ceremonies amidst a glittering, cirrifogladen atmosphere. She had once expressed an interest to Leia to see it, and she understood that this was a way for her sister-in-law to kill to birds with one stone, providing Mara with the opportunity to see the phenomena, while also maintaining her connection to a minor, yet rising, bureaucrat.

Mara smiled graciously, "Send me the details, I will see what we can work out."

**xxxxxxxxx**

_Like djarik pieces we were slowly moving into place, but the other players were invisible to us remaining hidden in their own webs of deceit and manipulation. _

_Someone had to make the first move…..but like all catalysts and moments of truth, none of us would know until it was too late. _

**_End of Post 6_**

**_End Part I_**

****

****

**Credit:** All of this is mine, (although references were made to events in books by Zahn and others). Additionally, in the last couple sections the first Italic portion, where the YJK are welcomed back is from _Crisis at Crystal Reef_ pp 181-183, while the second section, which is a POV change of a scene included in _Crisis at Crystal Reef_ is the italics are excerpted from pp 192-196. The final section of the post is based off the final scene in Crisis at Crystal Reef, but I changed it so that we're seeing the ceremony from Mara's POV, and extended it past the end of the book.


	11. Transition

**Transition**

_Where were you when…_

_…Alderaan was destroyed?_

_…the first Death Star exploded?_

_…the Emperor died?_

_…the peace treaty was signed?_

_Everyone, at sometime or another asks a loved one, a friend, a neighbor, a stranger in a tapcafe on a lonely night, these questions. It is a ritual, a way of bonding—reaching common ground. _

_Memories of war, of the steps towards victory (or for others, defeat) were of late memories belonging to my parent's generation. _

_Anyone who had lived through the Rebellion owned those memories, happy to know that they had passed on a better world to their loved ones. _

_That was their story, and even though many of us had fought in that war near the end, perhaps, in some ways the fight against the Vong, was our war…our fight for identity, survival and spirit. _

_So the children of an invaded galaxy now will ask each other the same question, but with different predicates. _

_Where were you when…_

..._you fought your first Vong?_

_…when you heard of Anakin Solo's death,_

_…when you heard of Jacen Solo's survival?_

_…when Coruscant fell? _

_But inevitably, conversation will turn to the beginning, to where this narration begins…to when Leia Organa Solo announced to the galaxy…that change was coming._

_xxxxxxxxx_

High above the senate floors the holonet media booth was designed to serve both as a monitor on the senate at large, but also as a direct connection to the official briefing room of the Chief of State. At any moment, or rather, particularly at this moment, if one were to stand, as Jianni Ravignon stood, in the center of the roomthe right glasteel panes would reveal a myriad of Senators gathered in the chambers, watching the giant holo panels for an impending announcement. On the other hand, if the backup holonet news reporter glanced to her left she would see the press briefing room with a parallel grouping of consoles to control the cameras and technical devices set up for the President's sole use.

Slowly the screen in the senate media booth matched the view through the glass of an empty podium in the press room and Jianni, stuck with the mundane job of ensuring that the Chief of State's speech was transmitted across the planet, and consequently the galaxy, was bored to tears.

Today was the day that the election season began, where senators jockeyed for the impossible.

Leia Organa Solo's Re-re-election had begun.

_Everyone knows what she's going to say. This isn't news…just more of the same. _

Sighing she turned towards the monitor and brought up the clarity levels, adjusting for the new lights in the chambers. Continuing her work, she glanced over her script, realizing that there wasn't a text for the prompter.

_How odd…_

The door at the end of the room swung open, and Jianni greeted the other back up reporter assigned to what the primetime newscasters dubbed "the dead beat."

Her counter part grunted, then with a level of curiosity muttered "Her family is outside, in the hall."

"They are a very close family."

He sniffed, "Even the Skywalkers."

Jianni's eyebrows raised, and glanced at the screen as the Chief of State made her way to the front while Han Solo, the three children, Master Skywalker and Mara Jade Skywalker unobtrusively took seats in the back, behind the other reporters.

As much as she hated this job, being here, instead of reporting on something worthwhile, Jianni could not help but be in awe of Leia Organa Solo. _How is she always so composed?_

Behind her, her co-worker was prattling on as he set up the feed to the chambers. "I've aimed cameras in the chambers on the Bothan delegation, along with on some of her key supporters."

Jianni, leaned forward, and pursed her lips…and blinked as the red light indicating that the Chief of State was standing by lit up next to her right hand. "Ready?"

"Ready"

"Cue imaging…" The seal of the New Republic flashed onto the holo feed in the Senate chambers.

"Cue Audio…" Jianni leaned forward in her chair towards the microphone, and mechanically announced, "And now, Chief of State Leia Organa Solo…" The applause, piped in from the Senate to the briefing room and across the galaxy was simultaneously deafening and supportive.

"Fade in"

xxxxxx

In the brief moments between her steady hand tapping the button to the media center, and the tender thumping of her heart against her chest, Leia finally admitted that she was nervous. It wasn't the decision, no, no..that she was sure of, as sure as she was of marrying Han so long ago. She was nervous of taking this big step forward, of change, of—the blinking light on the podium winked out before returning, burning steady and sure. At that moment, Leia lifted her head to look at the camera, meeting Han's supporting gaze for an imperceptible instance before exhaling, releasing the tension that had resided within her being for her entire life. Quite simply, it was time.

xxxx

Keladry Stanton sat up with a start, struggling for a few moments to figure out where she was. Wiping a hand across her bleary eyes she took in her surroundings, giving herself an internal shake. _Coruscant__ You're on Coruscant. _

She and her mother had arrived the night before from Mon Calamari. Her posting there had ended, and the NREMAT bureaucracy decided she would be better utilized in the core. Kel had been hesitant to leave her mother again, and managed to scrounge up the credits to get her transferred with her. _Not that it would matter._ Her mother noticed nothing, heard nothing- just slept, the beeping of her monitor the only sign of life.

"Excuse me, I didn't realize anyone was in here."

Keladry broke out of her reverie and noticed the man standing at the entrance to the room. Giving a non-committal shrug she stifled a yawn, then grimaced, "Sorry, I was told that it was ok if I stayed here for the night."

Chagrined, he tilted his head in apology. "I should apologize for waking you. I suppose you were the reason that the lounge was closed all day."

Again Keladry winced, "I must have been more tired than I thought."

"Our bodies know what's best." His eyes, a dark mocha, flickered behind Keladry towards the far side of the room, before he gestured with an arm towards the holo unit.

"Would it be alright if I…" he looked at his feet, abashed, "I wanted to hear the Chief of State's speech, and all the other lounges are being used by others."

Her eyes followed his to the muted set, and watched as the New Republic seal was replaced by President Organa Solo. She nodded her consent. "What's going on?"

"Its election time again."

"Oh." They were silent as the President's commanding voice filled the room, strong yet comforting, soft yet noticeable.

_"Over twenty-five years ago I arrived on Coruscant as a member of the Imperial Senate. Only eighteen, I was one of many disillusioned with the Emperor and the government that we were supposed to support. _

_Since that day, so much has happened…_

_And with hesitant steps we moved forward." _Something about the way she was standing cued Keladry into listening carefully. Despite her words, the President's stoic manner was stiffer than usual, and something in her eyes…

xxxxxx

_"After Alderaan, the Rebellion became my life. Watching everyone, everything disappear before my eyes, broke my heart but left me determined not to let that tragedy repeat itself. So I fought, stood my ground, and watched as the first Death Star was destroyed, longing for my family, and my friends who perished in the fight against that mechanical menace." _

_Since that day, so much has happened._

_And grief stricken, I moved forward." _

Tristan turned away from the gleaming lights and rows of speeders and traffic to the living room he shared with Nestor. For a moment he took in the small woman's features, seeing his pain reflected in hers. _The pain never goes away._ His chest tightened, and he exhaled, forcing his heart to slow down. Meeting Nestor's eyes for the barest of seconds, he sat.

_Neither does the anger._

xxxx

_"At Endor, battle weary, and with confidence, I knew we could win this fight. For while the Empire could kill us, they could never take our spirit. In his arrogance the Emperor believed that we were weak, when together we wielded a fire whose light would ensure our survival against the funneling darkness. His death, was the victory we needed, proudly ushering in the era of the __New__Republic__."_

Anakin sat next to his brother, still frustrated with their talk this afternoon. His Uncle, _Master_ Skywalker, to whom both he and Jace were apprenticed, had told them today about his ideas about reestablishing the Jedi Council. At the time, Jacen had been quiet, but later…Anakin was sure that the Force was meant to be a tool and that the Jedi Knights had a responsibility to safeguard it, but he just couldn't articulate it when talking to Jacen. After the Shadow Academy and Ryloth, especially after the problems with the Black Sun; Jacen had begun to believe that the structure of the order was at fault. Too many rules, too many limitations—the young Jedi Knights had accomplished so much without the permission of a council or the New Republic government…. His thoughts dispersed when, on the other side of him, Jaina gave him a Force nudge, reminding him to pay attention.

xxxx

_"We have fought many more battles since then, under the leadership and grace of Mon Mothma, and each fight demonstrated that the __New__Republic__ working together, can never falter. We have seen my brother, Luke Skywalker, rebuild the Jedi Knights, revealing the failure of Darth Vader and the Emperor's attempts at eliminating their existence. Rather, the honor and valor of the fallen, including my birth father, Anakin Skywalker, show that redemption and healing is possible." _

Luke reached out to his sister, knowing just how hard it had been for her to reconcile her feelings for their father. He felt a hand slip next to him and squeeze lightly, supporting. Glancing down at Mara's intertwined fingers he tightened his grip, happy that she was up and about. The last month she had been dealing with a particularly virulent strain of the Corellian Flu, and today she had finally felt well enough to finally leave the apartment.

Leia's words echoed what was in his heart.

_"So much has happened…_

_And with increasing confidence we moved forward. "_

xxxxxxxx

_"I was elected to this position over twelve years ago, and at the time, I was unwilling to recognize that with each round of the clock, the galaxy was changing, **I** was changing. Suddenly I was your President, a sister, a wife, and the mother of three— old enemies were slowly becoming colleagues. One of the greatest moments of my life was watching Ponc Gavrisom sign the peace treaty with Admiral Pelleaon finally ending a conflict that had killed so many, on both sides, but had been fundamentally a battle between members of the same galactic family. _

_After the destruction of the senate and battle on Almania, I understood that only together could we survive. Cooperation, coexistence, and communication would ensure a lasting peace. We learned that we are all beings living in the same spiral, and that every Mon Calamari, Bith, Vortex, Wookie, Bothan, Human, Ithorian, Duro, no matter what affiliation have the individual responsibility to take care of each other, or the peace that we have struggled so long and so hard to sustain shall fall apart. "_

"She's really pulling out the big guns isn't she?" muttered Aseneth before he mockingly lifted his glass to the Chief of State. "It's the two punch politician trick. First remind everyone of what you've done for them, then show how you can continue to do the job. It is such a farce. She really is the Empress for life."

Next to him, in the dim tapcafe on Thyferra, Illghazi and Natir grimaced. "She has done a lot for the galaxy."

His girlfriend, Minali elbowed him. "Yea, play nice. It's not as if you have not done a few skeezy politician-like tricks in your day. Should I remind you of that real estate deal in the third sector?" She lifted an eyebrow, when he didn't answer. "That's what I thought."

Behind them, quietly, Dr. Ignace smiled softly. "Isn't Kel on Coruscant now?"

Natir twisted slightly, "I think so, last I hear she was being transferred."

Tilting his head he raised his eyebrows curiously. "It's closer than Mon Cal. What do you guys say…"

Aseneth shushed them. "Shh. She's still talking!" Next to him Minali giggled before meeting her friends eyes with her vote, giving them her affirmation.

Leaning on her husband Natir sighed. Soon, she'd be seeing her best friend again.

xxxxx

"_Despite our pasts, we have been presented with the responsibility of making this galaxy strong for our children. Whatever mistakes we may have made along the way, time will continue to march on, facing forward neutral to life and death. "_

On Tatooine, absently listening to the speech as she stood at the mail window, the nurse fiddled with the holodiscs, wondering whether the additional encoded message was necessary. This was a big step for her, admitting her feelings without knowing what would come next. Without being able to see his reaction. She heard Leia Organa Solo's words and made a decision. _Time_ would keep moving, and would leave her behind. Feeling good, she handed the droid the discs and went back to work, her head held high.

xxxx

_"And so, as our galaxy spins on, I have come to an important decision about my future, that irregardless of my intentions shall affect the outcome of these elections. Let it be known that this decision was made over a year ago after careful consultation with my family and advisors. It was not a decision taken lightly." _

_But my decision was. _He had followed her across the galaxy. From Tatooine, to Mon Cal. But he was tired of waiting. Today he had made a statement. Today, she would know he meant business. Dr. Keladry Stanton would know that he loved her. He _hated_ loving her. He hated her. And her actions had pushed him too far. It was time for death, then he would feel better.

For a time.

xx

_"Let it be known that this decision was made over a year ago after careful consultation with my family and advisors. It was not a decision taken lightly." _

_And here I am. At the crossroads…_Leia straightened her shoulders, swallowed, took a short breath…and then…she told them…

_"I have decided to not run for reelection." _

xxxxxx

In the booth above, it was like a thunder clap, and Jianni turned around to stare at her fellow broadcaster her mouth open slightly. She could tell he was just as stunned, as the camera quickly swung over to capture Borsk Fey'lya's face. For a brief flicker the Bothan's eyes widened with shock, before changing to one of triumph.

xxxxxxxxx

_"The people of the New Republic need to understand that in these twelve years, you have given me more reasons to be proud of being your leader than I can possibly count. You've have made me stronger and taught me lessons of the heart, mind and soul that I shall never forget. But it is time, and I hope that the citizens who fear change will understand that I am not abandoning them. Even though I will no longer lead this Republic, I shall remain forever in its debt, ready to help, ready to serve and always ready to talk. "_

Nom Anor finished writing his instructions to the Red Knights, before the infidel woman's words permeated his brain. His lips slowly twisted up into a not often smile, filled with malice and smug satisfaction.

Leia Organa Solo had just, unknowingly, handed him the galaxy.

xxxxxxxxxx

_"So much will change, _

_But hand in hand we can face the future, and move forward."_

Her last words rang throughout the lounge, clear, confident and…tinged with a bit of sadness.

Then as her image changed to one of the New Republic seals, and a young inexperienced commentator, did Keladry realize she had stood up.

"Oh, my, stars." She covered her mouth with her hand in consternation and lowered her body back onto the seat.

Next to her, the other occupant in the room sat stunned.

Slowly Keladry looked at him, and for a moment their eyes met both with a level of mutual experience, knowing that they would remember the day forever. She opened her mouth and then closed it, unable to articulate what she was feeling. Was it Anxiety…nervousness…_fear?_ As she tried again, a loud whine pierced the silence, a familiar sound of a patient going into a Code Red. Frozen, rooted to the spot, Kel felt herself sweating as she heard the loud clacking of boots and yells, coming towards the room. _Please, no. Please. _Both of the occupants jumped as the lounge door slammed open.

Unlike her intense entrance, the nurse's face was kind, placid, and sympathetically sorrowful. "Dr. Stanton, I think you should come with me…"

xxxxxxxxxx

_And so…it begins. _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**A/N Just so that you have it, b/c I thought it might add to the cadence of the speech...here's the speech w/o the dialogue and thoughts in between.**

**The Speech**

Over twenty-five years ago I arrived on Coruscant as a member of the Imperial Senate. Only eighteen, I was one of many disillusioned with the Emperor and the government that we were supposed to support.

Since that day, so much has happened…  
And with hesitant steps we moved forward.

After Alderaan, the Rebellion became my life. Watching everyone, everything disappear before my eyes, broke my heart but left me determined not to let that tragedy repeat itself. So I fought, stood my ground, and watched as the first Death Star was destroyed, longing for my family, and my friends who perished in the fight against that mechanical menace.

Since that day, so much has happened.  
And grief stricken, I moved forward.

At Endor, battle weary, and with confidence, I knew we could win this fight. For while the Empire could kill us, they could never take our spirit. In his arrogance the Emperor believed that we were weak, when together we wielded a fire whose light would ensure our survival against the funneling darkness. His death, was the victory we needed, proudly ushering in the era of the New Republic.

We have fought many more battles since then, under the leadership and grace of Mon Mothma, and each fight demonstrated that the New Republic working together, can never falter. We have seen my brother, Luke Skywalker, rebuild the Jedi Knights, revealing the failure of Darth Vader and the Emperor's attempts at eliminating their existence. Rather, the honor and valor of the fallen, including my birth father, Anakin Skywalker, show that redemption and healing is possible.

So much has happened…  
And with increasing confidence we moved forward.

I was elected to this position over twelve years ago, and at the time, I was unwilling to recognize that with each round of the clock, the galaxy was changing, I was changing. Suddenly I was your President, a sister, a wife, and the mother of three— old enemies were slowly becoming colleagues. One of the greatest moments of my life was watching Ponc Gavrisom sign the peace treaty with Admiral Pelleaon finally ending a conflict that had killed so many, on both sides, but had been fundamentally a battle between members of the same galactic family.

After the destruction of the senate and battle on Almania, I understood that only together could we survive. Cooperation, coexistence, and communication would ensure a lasting peace. We learned that we are all beings living in the same spiral, and that every Mon Calamari, Bith, Vortex, Wookie, Bothan, Human, Ithorian, Duro, no matter what affiliation have the individual responsibility to take care of each other, or the peace that we have struggled so long and so hard to sustain shall fall apart.

Despite our pasts, we have been presented with the responsibility of making this galaxy strong for our children. Whatever mistakes we may have made along the way, time will continue to march on, facing forward neutral to life and death.

And so, as our galaxy spins on, I have come to an important decision about my future, that irregardless of my intentions shall affect the outcome of these elections. Let it be known that this decision was made over a year ago after careful consultation with my family and advisors. It was not a decision taken lightly. 

I have decided to not run for reelection.

The people of the New Republic need to understand that in these twelve years, you have given me more reasons to be proud of being your leader than I can possibly count. You've have made me stronger and taught me lessons of the heart, mind and soul that I shall never forget. But it is time, and I hope that the citizens who fear change will understand that I am not abandoning them. Even though I will no longer lead this Republic, I shall remain forever in its debt, ready to help, ready to serve and always ready to talk.

So much will change,  
But hand in hand we can face the future, and move forward.


	12. Post 7

**A/N **

**This begins the second part of the story which is a bit of a whirlwind through the New Jedi Order. **

I'm really trying to write from the bottom-up i.e. the war of the Vong from the perspectives of the OC's ...what that means though is that it'll also be a new perspective on certain events dealing with our fav. characters... 

I tried in each section to bring in at least one character from the wider world...

i.e. in the first post...its Mara and Luke and Cilghal... 

This last parts formation came b/c of what i'm doing in RL right now. I am a graduate student in Public History...and we've been learning about trends in history and how it used be told from the perspective of "Big White Men" (as in famous white men) and how ever since the advent of social history in the 1970's they/we have been trying to shift the focus to look at how the people felt about life and events to find out how they lived.

So..you will see the influence in this one with me trying to look at the war from the perspective of some people who weren't on the front lines...but had a place in the war...

Also...This story along with **To Honor the Dead **and **Changing of the Guard** began to some extent with how I thought Mara found out about her disease. Eventually as you will notice my OC's took over, and her "discover" became a part of the larger narration. Enjoy. Review Please...

**Timing for Post 7**

Two weeks after Leia's speech, four months since the events of _Crisis at Crystal Reef._

A few months prior to **Vector Prime** and the invasion of the Vong.

All timing is speculation based on allusions made on the timeline/VP about Mara's illness and the timeline of the disease. I've kind of assumed that (obviously) Mara is an anomaly.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Post 7**

_The galaxy spins and time whirls by…_

**Two Weeks Later **

The exhaustion was finally hitting her. Keladry Stanton sat bleary eyed and stared at the screen in front of her, eyes flickering to the time and mentally calculating what was left of her shift. There was no way she was going to meet Nestor and Tristan for dinner that night, because thirty minutes from now she was going to go home and _finally_ get some sleep.

Slipping the latest file from Corellia into the proper datastream, she flipped open her comm and begun entering Nestor's commcode before pausing.

If she cancelled tonight, it would be the third time since her mother's death, in fact she had not seen them at all since her return from Mon Cal. She could almost hear Nestor's chastisement about stretching herself to thin, but she _had_ to work. Accepting the offered leave would give her time to think.

Something she desperately was trying to avoid.

The slight vibration tickling against her palm broke Keladry from her thoughts, and it took her a second to remember that her commlink had been programmed to run on silent so as to not disturb patients.

She thumbed it on, "Dr. Stanton."

"If you have a free moment, the healer in room 3323 requests some help." The soft voice of the receptionist came over the tiny speaker.

_Healer?_ Curious, Keladry punched off the monitor before replying. "What is the patient name?"

"She wouldn't say," the voice paused for a moment. "It is Jedi Healer Cilghal."

Involuntarily Keladry's eyebrow's raised. "I'll be there in a moment."

The silence of her temporary office gave way to the medical facilities reception area which was exhibiting its normal amount of organized chaos typical of most medical centers. So far, of course, she had been lucky. There had been horror stories of those in NREMAT who got sent from place to place every month before their two year contract ran out. Maybe partially due to her mother's condition, NREMAT had been kind enough to reassign Kel to the center where she had worked towards her degree. Almost as if on autopilot, she was able to slip back into the routine with ease. Or maybe it was because her job was not complicated; rather it was a matter of slipping into her training. One night a week she was in charge of the ER, while on other days she ran triage with the nurses and worked with her own private patient load.

Last night had been an ER night, followed by a day filled with patients and research requests from fellow NREMAT doctors. She had seen her last patient an hour ago and had been finishing up some paperwork. Weaving her way through those still waiting she reached the admit room and tapped lightly, before stepping through quickly when the door slid open.

It was just a moment, a ripple of a second where Keladry recognized the second occupant of the room. Healer Cilghal was fairly recognizable in the medical community, but her patient, rather who Keladry presumed to be her patient, was a legend. Quickly gathering up her wits, she introduced herself.

"Master Jade Skywalker, Master Cilghal. My name is Dr. Stanton, I was told that you needed some additional aid?" Before letting them answer she noticed the clammy pallor of Mara Skywalker's features. Taking out her stethoscope and measuring kit, Keladry stepped closer. "Master Skywalker, if I may?"

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Mara grimaced when Cilghal finished her exam, noting the worried expression on her face. "It's not the Corellian Flu is it?"

Cilghal's bulbous eyes blinked cautiously before she replied. "No." She pulled out her commlink and spoke softly for a few seconds before elaborating. "Mara, how long have you been sick?"

She shrugged, "On and off for the last few months, but it's been intermittent." Mara frowned, "I had thought, at first that maybe…it was something else, but now…"

Cilghal laid her arm on Mara's. "Wait before you jump to conclusions. I have another doctor coming in who may know more than we do…" There was a light tap on the door and Mara looked warily as the woman came forward. Her skin was tan, and lines of exhaustion, augmented her hazel eyes. She clearly recognized Mara, surprised to see her there, but covered it as she introduced herself as Dr. Keladry Stanton. Then in a moment that Mara dreaded, her expression changed, schooled into an almost imperceptible mask that she had come to associate with medical technicians.

_It's just the Corellian Flu…_

"Master Skywalker, if I may?" The woman held out her stethoscope and other unfamiliar measuring devices.

Silent, Mara nodded, her mind racing with all the things she had to get done before returning to Yavin IV tomorrow. She inhaled when told to inhale, exhaled when told to exhale, but remained disconnected. _It's just the Corellian Flu. _

"Master Skywalker?" Her voice was gentle. "I need to ask you some questions, and then I think I may have to send you to a specialist. All right?"

She asked the standard questions and then pulled out a datapad, on which she made a few notations. "Is this a correct list of some of your symptoms? "

Mara glanced them over, nodded, then bit out "Yes. Can you tell me what's going on?"

Ignoring her tone the doctor smoothly continued. "One more question. Have you, in recent months traveled to Corelllia, Monor II, the Delphi, or Dantooine?"

"Monor II." In the back of her mind, Mara felt a twinge of fear, as if the Force was confirming what the doctor was going to say.

"How about, Nexta, Rodia, Bordien V?"

"No."

The small woman exchanged glances with Cilghal who nodded and then she settled herself into the chair next to Mara's bed.

"I work for the New Republic Emergency Medical Aide Team, NREMAT."

"The catastrophe doctors." The statement was flat, neutral, reserved.

Slightly amused, despite the seriousness of the situation, the doctor nodded. "Yes, the catastrophe doctors. In recent months we've been dealing with cases across the galaxy of patients who have been sick, with symptoms mimicking common illnesses.

And then within two-three weeks every single one has succumbed to an unidentifiable ailment. " Kel frowned, choosing her words wisely. "From what we have been able to compile, those seven locations are common, along with a wide swath of symptoms from medical records. Unfortunately we are still unable to come up with a single vector for the disease."

Mara jumped up, shaking her head. "Epidemic? I would know if I were that sick…." She trailed off as Cilghal laid squeezed her arm.

"Mara, you need to listen."

Keladry looked at her patient, no longer masking her concern. If the Jedi Healer felt that this was serious, then it was of utmost importance that the Jedi Master get help, immediately.

Shaking her head in outward denial, though a part of her had already confirmed the diagnosis, Mara took a step towards the door, suddenly swaying with lightheadedness. She was a Jedi. She _never_ got sick. If you don't count blaster burns…but that was what healing trances were for. Carefully, refusing the proffered help from the two doctors, she sat back down onto the bed. "No one has survived?"

The doctor seemed to hesitate, not knowing whether to answer the question, but the intensity of the Jedi Master's green eyes changed her mind. "No. But I didn't say that you have the disease. They won't be able to tell you for sure until further tests are done."

Shaking her head, with an element of fury, Mara was adamant. "They don't need to do them. I know." She sighed and turned to Cilghal. "I need you to do the following. Keep it quiet. Then get me an appointment with the specialist, after which you and I are going to try and identify this menace and destroy it."

Cilghal nodded, "Mara, you need to call Luke." The woman was holding her feelings so tight, that even the healer couldn't feel them, but she was sure that at the moment Luke Skywalker could sense that something was wrong, merely by the absence of his connection to his wife.

"No!" the Force directive in that response caused the cup next to the bed to rattle. _Things are going too fast._ She took a deep breath, reaching out for calm. "I'll tell him later, when I'm ready."

Dr. Stanton stood up, trying to calm her down. "There's no point in telling anyone until you want to, although I suggest you tell your husband soon. Remember, you need to make sure that this is what you're up against. _Absolutely sure_. "

The Mon Calamarian healer nodded, "Yes. I will also need a copy of the data that NREMAT is compiling. It may help."

Keladry nodded, "I'll go get it for you right now, the research team meets in this building."

She watched as the two Jedi rose, with Cilghal supporting the younger woman. Mara shook off her help, inhaled and before Keladry Stanton's eyes, all traces of illness vanished from the woman's face. She recognized that the Jedi was using the Force, but also worried about the woman's knee jerk reaction to combating her illness alone. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when she caught the imperceptible shake of the Mon Calamari healer's head, so instead, Keladry tipped her forehead in farewell to Mara, "May the Force be with you Master Skywalker."

Sardonically, Mara Jade Skywalker smiled, "And you Dr. Stanton, and you."

xxx

Tristan Romani leaned towards the screen and ran his finger along the mitochondrial wall of the cell he was looking at. "Nestor, what file are you looking at right now?"

"Well, I'm currently organizing the Z series." Nestor looked up from his work and swiveled around in his seat, only to find himself staring at the back of Tristan's head. "Why?"

"Do any of the in the ZX subdirectories include a cell makeup?" His voice was muffled yet intrigued.

Turning back toward his file, Nestor tapped the interface, "Let me check," he pulled up the patient database. "Yes, Doctor, ZX 153432, and ZX 142232 both have a cell makeup. I'm sending them to your unit now."

A beep from his computer notified Tristan of their arrival, and he quickly pulled them up in a three-way split with the one he was currently looking at. "That's odd…"

"What's odd?" Tristan jumped at the closeness of Nestor's voice before answering.

"They all have this variance within the mitochondrial wall. As if something biological was tearing it apart."

"We'll have to ask the bio-data team to run a check for us….maybe we'll be able to finally identify this death trap…." Nestor trailed off, unable to see what Tristan was referring to on the screen. Having no medical background he was sorting files by region, cataloging the patient data to come up with a specific symptomatic data for doctors to use as a reference.

Tristan looked at his friend grimly, "And once we identify it, then we can construct a way to fight it."

The commlink on his table beeped and Nestor reached over and flipped it open. "Alluvia here."

"Nestor, its Keladry."

Nestor's eyes met Tristan who nonchalantly turned away from the images before him to listen in on the conversation. Nestor smirked inwardly. _Maybe there's hope for the two of them after all…_

Shaking his head, Tristan gestured for the comm.. "Dr. Stanton, you're not canceling on us again are you?"

"Noooooooooo……" Her answer was stretched out, reflecting her intention to say the opposite.

"Keladry!" Tristan was exasperated. "What's going on?"

"Hold that thought. First, I just sent a patient here on Coruscant up to the staff, and I need a copy of the datastream for the healer."

Nestor reached over to his unit and transferred the data packet to a holodisc. "Nestor's on his way. Where should he meet you? "

"Outside the elevator bank, Level 77. I'm sending you the new patients bloodwork..."

Tristan's eyes followed Nestor's retreating back before he turned to the images again. _That tear__ in the wall..._ "Kel, what about dinner?" _Where have I seen this construction before?_

"Um…how about we meet at my place?" There was some hesitation in her voice, before she admitted quietly, "I'm exhausted." There was a rustle on her end, "Tristan, there's another call, hold on a second."

She came back a moment later, "That was my mother's physician. She says I need to see her when my shift is over. So when you and Nestor are finished, just come by my place. Pick something up on your way."

_Sithspawn__…_ Tristan's heart leapt to his throat, and suddenly unable to breathe he answered mechanically. "Sounds good, I'll see you then."

"Bye" he clicked off the comm, and leaned back in his chair, his head pounding.

The last time he had seen this construction, was when looking at the cell makeup of one of his patients on Valdet. At the time, no one on Coruscant had any answers and the disease probably would have killed her had it not been for other circumstances.

He ticked off locations in his head, as to where they had traveled prior to her sickness. None of them matched up. _How did this happen? _

Maybe it was a trick of his memory, and unfortunately all of his records, even if he could contact someone to retrieve them for him, had probably been destroyed when the bomb hit his home.

Except… not _all_ of his records had been on Valdet. Knowing he would change his mind, he flipped open his comm and typed in the code before he could think…

He didn't know what to think.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On his way back up from meeting a hurried Keladry, Nestor pulled holodisc packet that had arrived the day before in the mail, slipping the first into his datapad.

The first message was from Syla Intindola, and Nestor could not help but evoke an image of the pretty nurse in his mind. Small in stature, but strong in will she had the remarkable skill of calming even the most agitated patient by her kind words. Her dark russet hair offset her pale complexion which was highlighted by a constant blush upon her cheeks. He smiled to himself and keyed in the passcode.

_Nestor, _

_I'm not entirely sure how to phrase this, but thought that now is as good a time as any to express how lonely Tatooine has been since your departure. _

_I miss talking to you. Thanks for the lovely evenings, and I await the moment when, perhaps, more eloquently, I can tell you how I feel._

_Syla_

_PS: This holodisc arrived for you from NREMAT HQ. Hopefully it contains the long awaited news of your daughter. _

Nestor grinned to himself, remembering those nights walking her to her quarters, when Syla had coaxed him into talking about himself. His life was a life of service, to Elbereth's family and now to Tristan's, and no one, save Elbereth, had ever asked about his family. He told Syla about Isabelita and his grandchild, and remembered the curious look on her face when he explained how Alden wasn't his grandson by blood, just in his heart. At the age of thirty-seven, Nestor had never been in love, never had time for love—besides his lovely Isa, which of course was different.

Nevertheless he saw what Syla was trying to say and was surprised to find that he felt the same way.

Slipping in the second disc, right as the door to the elevator opened, he stopped short, shocked. It was a message from Isa about recent events on Valdet and Danshitie. He had sent a short update before they left Tatooine about how to contact him, but he never believed the message would reach her.

Numb, he was still reading when he hit the entrance code to the research room. "Doctor, I got a message from home."

No answer.

"Doctor?" He looked up to see the doctor frantically scribbling on a datapad, while staring at an image on the computer.

Tristan looked up at his friend with widened eyes. "Just a second Nestor."

Nestor nodded and continued to read. _Mara Jade Skywalker retrieved the tablet. Koi and __Sian__ being questioned.__ A new government…Proof of the over clan… Things are stable…_

"Nestor,"

The older man looked up at the sound of his name, standing to peer over Tristan's shoulder at the screen. He may not have been a doctor, but he could tell that this cell makeup had been severely ravaged. "Who is this?"

Tristan gestured to the screen, aghast. "This…" he released his breath and inhaled again. "This was…" He struggled to say her name after so many months of avoiding it. Trying again he stuttered. "T..this was… Elbereth." He stumbled over her name, "Elbereth after being sick for far more than two weeks." He pointed to the distinct ripple in the mitochondrial wall. As if to fill the silence he went on, "I knew the construction looked familiar and once I made the connection I contacted the center that I had asked to analyze her blood here on Coruscant." He hit a key to pull up another window and pointed to the three files that he had been looking at before. "And this…is after only two weeks. After each patient had died"

He hit another key, "And this is the new patient, the one that is exhibiting symptoms but has yet to be severely affected." The tear was there, perhaps not as evident, but clearly deteriorating.

Nestor blinked, seeing the similarities, but lacking the medical knowledge to understand the implications. "What does this mean?"

Tristan shook his head, unsure. "Based off of this and what information we have compiled, Elbereth had the same disease as the others, just less…virulent." Each time it got easier, but still he looked down at his hands, blinking back the tears that still threatened him. "It took her longer to die, whereas the form that these two beings," he quickly looked up the other two other files, to regain composure, "both non-human, was more aggressive. Almost as if it was sentient and knew which organs to attack." He scrolled back to the new patient. "Now patient 1138 here, her history indicates that she had been sick for almost as long as Elbereth, but the tear in her cellular makeup is only at the initial stages."

Nestor frowned, "None of it makes any sense, maybe we should go up and see this patient."

Tristan frowned, "We'll try to get more information out of Keladry, because I doubt that Patient 1138 will want to be bombarded after finding out that she has a fatal disease."

Blinking, the bodyguard silently berated himself for his insensitivity. "Of course doctor. What do we do next?"

Grimacing, Tristan pulled his coat from the back of the chair and slipped it on. "I don't know. I really, don't know." He set his lips together in a thin line. "But if I can't figure it out, than we'll find someone who can. We'll tell the researchers upstairs about this and head on out. Maybe they'll make some headway before tomorrow." He made it to the door before Nestor's words from earlier caught up with him. Whirling around gaped at his bodyguard…and found Nestor frozen, looking down at a data pad. A look of wonder fused on his face, the expression a picture of constructed calm.

Hesitantly, allowing himself some hope of good news Tristan reached for the datapad. Disbelievingly, strangling out the words. "Nestor….did you say you got a message from home?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_I know. Where was Tristan's hardened determination, his anger from two months ago? Where was my fear? _

_ Tristan had grown adept at hiding his feelings, at least the ones dealing with Iker Rafagr. As predicted the trail for the villain grew cold. Now the daily rhythm and routine of work sustained the good doctor, not as distraction, but rather, as a means to find a semblance of peace. His anger no longer burned, raging in fury. Nor did it lay dormant near the surface, spiking at each reminder, at each failure. Instead, despite finding the connection to his wife's illness, or even learning of my sorrows, the anger buried itself, deep within the core of his being. This anger, more dangerous, more bitter, remained hidden, hidden to all but Tristan. He knew of its existence, of course, covering it well. He chose to bide his time, allowing for a level of normalcy, some feelings of joy. Meanwhile, the anger whittled away at his soul, because we know that feelings of such magnitude never remain suppressed for long. _

_ As for meI chose to hide my fear, again. On Mon Cal I could focus on my mother, knowing that my trail to her had not been hidden, predictable. In some twisted sense, knowing that he was probably on planet, watching me, felt…safer. I lived each day for those months expecting a card, expecting the evil to rear its ugly head. So I would be ready when it did. Every day for those eight weeks Tristan and Nestor made sure I was alright, anchoring me to sanity. _

_But my mother's death changed all that, and my fear returned compounded by two clear indications that life is not stable. Somehow, despite the only recent peace with the Empire, I had always felt safe knowing that Leia Organa Solo was there to lead us, to be the vanguard against the enemy. Now someone else would take her place. Secondly, although my conscious recognition that they were not gods, the Jedi stood as a moral and undeniable shield countering insidious threats. Mara Jade Skywalker's illness proved that she, and thus the Jedi, was mortal. _

_I was waiting for something to happen. I waited for that sharp pain reminding me that things could get worse. _

_Then, without warning, it did._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Incorrect passcode._

"Shavit," Her hands shook as she punched in the code to her door again. "Shavit, Shavit, Shavit."

_Incorrect passcode._

"Calm down Keladry, calm down." Down the hall from her the lift pinged, and she froze, her head snapping to the left. Staring intently at the open doors, she sagged, shrinking against the wall her back to the door, willing herself invisible, but no one stepped out, she was safe.

Relieved she turned back to keypad and wiped her sweaty hands upon her slacks. Raggedly breathing she tried to steady the shaking, punching in the code with deliberate and sharp strokes, with success. Silently, the door slid open bringing the cool air of her climate controlled home.

After two weeks of living on Coruscant, Keladry had yet to begin unpacking or making the apartment seem remotely lived in. Apart from a few ceramic trinkets she had never really realized how bleak and uninviting the interior seemed. With deft movements, dragging herself through, Keladry secured the door behind her. She turned towards the empty room, fighting back the expected tears, before testing the lock on the door. Twice. Her eyes had been dry earlier when her mother's doctor broke the news, and they remained dry. Within the comfort of the office, she found herself not surprised by the autopsy results, and expected her emotions to return once in the anonymity and isolation of her home.

But no tears came. Instead, there was white fury—perhaps something akin to a murderous rage, an irony considering. The weight of her bag felt pressed against her chest digging a hole into her heart.

"ARGHHHHHHH" The sound of her voice was loud, even to her, and somehow, in an action atypical, she found her bag flying out of her hand…soaring…soaring…soaring slamming against the wall. Kel watched without care as the bag knocked over a ceramic vase, her mind horrified yet satisfied at the same time. She needed to destroy something, to relieve herself of this madness boiling inside…the grief was enormous, and something she wasn't sure she could contain.

_Bzzzzzzzz_

Startled, Kel turned towards the door announcer, letting out a short scream before slapping her hand across her mouth. The force of the silencing, and her crossed legs upset her balance, and she found herself toppling forward to her knees. For a moment she sat there, before crawling and reaching above her head to hit the intercomm. "Who is it?"

"Surprise Kel! It's us!" Six months had gone by, but the bittersweet memories of semi-security on Thyferra rose, tantalizingly to her brain.

There was a sarcastic groan over the intercom, drowning out Minali's excited chatter. "And by us she means, Ignace, Minali, Natir and Illghazi."

Involuntarily, Keladry started, feeling lightheaded. Terror. Anger. Shock. Joy. Suppression. In a space of thirty seconds emotions had been turned upside down, shaking her to the core. "Wh..What are you doing here?"

Ignace's drawl was unmistakable, "I don't know Kel…maybe to visit you?"

_I can't just leave them outside. Your feelings can wait, don't let him restructure your life. _She started quickly, aware of her babbling, feeling a level of urgency. "Oh! Oh! Just a second… give me just a second." Turning Kel ran into the bathroom and splashed some water over her flushed face. She took a minute to steady her heart, recognizing that she couldn't do anything about the redness in her eyes. In that minute she shoved her grief and anger deep down. Her friends didn't want to hear about her bad news, especially since they still were unaware of her stalker.

Hurriedly, she ran back to the door and let it slide open, plastering a smile on her face. "Sorry! Sorry! Come in guys!" She hugged each of her four friends taking in how each of them had changed.

"Minali! Your hair, it's blond! I don't think I've seen you in that color …ever!" She exclaimed and laughed when Minali made a face at her…

Illghazi swung his arm around Kel's shoulder squeezing lightly. "She's been dating a politician, has to look normal for the holo's."

Minali blushed, "Yea, why don't you tell her about you and Natir and your little bundle of joy."

Kel turned around to look at the Rodian's face. "What?"

Illghazi smiled and rubbed his palms together. "You're looking at the proud father of a three bedroom flat in sector 4."

Dr. Ignace groaned, "Did you actually think he was going to be a _real_ father! Noooo way, he's way too immature for that."

Natir stepped away from the balcony to stand beside her husband. "You never know Ignace…." Her eyes were mischievous as she turned towards her friend. _She's too thin, and has been crying_. "You look fantastic, darling. Working yourself to the bone I suppose, but there's nothing new about that!"

Minali sidled up beside her, "I bet her secret admirer would still think she was a knockout if she were wearing a bag."

Keladry stiffened, and then shrugged out of Illghazi's embrace. "Have you guys eaten? Are you hungry?" She was aware of how she looked, frazzled and disorganized, but could not stop herself.

"Ravenous," "Starved," "Food!" it was a chorus of affirmations.

"Give me a second and I'll put in an order." Kel moved into the bedroom to find the numbers for the delivery person. And took a moment to sit down and catch her breadth. _Just make it through the night. The anger won't be going anywhere. You can deal with it later…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Without Keladry in it, the living room lapsed into silence. Minali and Ignace glanced at one another with a measure of worry. The recent blonde mouthed, "She doesn't look good," across the room. Standing next to the bedroom door Natir shook her head, equally silent, her gaze stern. _Not now_. She leaned over to pick up the duffel bag and files that were lying haphazardly next to the couch, nearly stepping on a small chipped ceramic vase. _That's odd, Kel is normally so careful about her things…_

Bzzzzzz

The four friends looked towards the bedroom, but Kel still hadn't come out.

Shrugging, Natr hit the intercomm, "Who is it?"

"Food! What else!" The voice was amused.

Behind her Illghazi muttered in wonder, "Coruscant delivery sure is fast!"

Minali elbowed him, "Don't act smart, buddy."

Rolling her eyes, Natir unlocked the door and it slid open.

Standing in the hallway were two men. The taller one was built, with an aquiline nose, while the shorter had dark hair…..both in dark slacks while the second was holding onto a medical coat.

"I'm sorry, this is Keladry Stanton's apartment isn't it?" Tall frowned, leaning back to check the number next to the door.

"Yes….and you are?" Her eyes were quizzical.

The younger man looked up, "We didn't know she had a roommate. Sorry, Tristan Romani, and this moron," He pointed his thumb towards the taller man, "is Nestor Alluvia."

Natir started, leaning forward to take a look at this laughing young man, not convinced of his identity.

Nestor laughed, recognizing the Rodian from the hospital on Thyferra. "Ignore him, he's normally not so articulate, but we just got some good news from home. Is Kel back from her appointment?"

Before Natir could respond Kel's voice came from the bedroom. "Ok guys, I've ordered us a bunch of food, so you better not have been lying when you said you were hungry."

Natir looked back and must have motioned to her friend who arrived at the door a moment later.

Tristan took one look at Keladry's face and knew something was wrong. "Hey, Kel. It seems pretty busy in there. Do you want us to come back later?" He ignored the look of astonishment on Nestor's face.

She motioned them in, her eyes betraying what her upbeat voice hid. "No, of course not. We had plans, no reason why it shouldn't turn into a party. The more the merrier." Her face twitched, masking some pain that she obviously wanted to express but could not…

Satisfied that they were not leaving, Nestor squeezed by, holding up the food they had brought, giving Tristan a knowing glance. "I'll go stick this in the kitchen." He looked at the Rodian waiting behind Keladry and gestured with his hand. "After you."

Natir frowned, looking at Tristan and Keladry with suspicion. "I'll introduce you to the rest of us, although I think you've met us all before, on Thyferra."

Sidling by Keladry, Tristan waited for her to close and secure the door before leaning forward for a quick hug of greeting. He was surprised when she held onto him for a millisecond longer. "What's wrong?"

Keladry pulled back as if uncertain. "I'm sorry I keep doing this. First on Tatooine, now…"

Tristan looked over her shoulder at the living room where all her friends were. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not here, I was hoping that you and Nestor would know what to do next. The inspectors are going to call in a few hours."

"Inspectors?" Tristan noticed the slight tremble in her hands as the griped his sleeve.

Keladry bit her lip, clearly about to lose whatever control she had on her emotions. She took a step towards the living room intending to go into her bedroom, but she crumpled, her legs giving out.

Cautiously watching her movements, Tristan's arms shot out, barely catching her before she hit the floor.

"I..I…I…" Her voice was ragged, incoherent.

"Breathe, Kel. Breathe." Tristan, looked at her flushed face worriedly, before looking around to see if he there was anyplace to make her sit down. In his half crouching, half standing position he leaned back toward the wall, cradling her against the floor. "Kel?"

"They said, that , said that…death, not natural. They said…" As if realizing she was mumbling and losing control, conscious of her proximity to Tristan she pushed up against his chest finding support in the back wall, her knees held tight against her chest as a panacea.

His arm still encircling her shoulders, Tristan was hesitant. "Did something happen at your appointment tonight?"

She nodded and her head dropped to his shoulder. Almost inaudibly she explained. "The security tapes, from my mother's room. They caught someone medicating my mother ten minutes prior to her death…" Keladry felt disconnected, not sad—she had known her mother would die someday, but frustrated that _he _had broken through the walls she had built after Tatooine.

Of course in her state of mind, Kel could not be sure whether the he she was referring to was her stalker or Tristan Romani.

Sensing her consternation, Tristan began rubbed her back, "It's all right, you're safe. Don't worry." _He must have slipped a toxin into Mrs. Stanton's bloodstream. _

Steadier now, "Tristan, the video feed was fuzzy. They hadn't focused the monitors yet, so we can't identify the mmmmurderer. But the picture, before her alarms went off showed him putting a black ccccaarrrd on her bedside."

His hand froze in the middle of her back. "Did they get the card?"

"The inspectors have it…he's here. On Coruscant." The anger leaked out. And she shoved away from him. Standing shakily. "Tristan. He. Killed. My. Mother." Her fists clenched, and her voice rose. "He killed her!"

For a moment while she caught her breath, Tristan was conscious of the silence in the adjoining room. As he pulled himself up, he reached out to calm her, but she continued yelling.

"I left Thyferra to keep everyone safe. And now they're here, I'm here, and my mother is dead." She groaned, dropping her head into her hand, her voice dropping. "And I'm so tired…"

Nestor stood hovering worriedly in the doorway. Tristan gestured for him to hold on a moment, and then gently pried Keladry's fingers from her face. "I think you need to sleep, you'll be in no condition to help to the inspectors unless you rest."

She stared into his grey eyes, entreating plaintively, "How could I? I can't stop thinking. I can't stop seeing her, seeing the letters, the pictures…" Even while talking, the burst of energy that accompanied the anger was deflating, and the exhaustion from earlier in the day was returning. "I'm tired, but I still won't get any rest…."

Wiping the dampness from the tears, Tristan lightly chastised her. "You know as well as I do that if you're not getting enough rest, sometimes it's better to force your body to accept it." He took a breath. "Go with Nestor and lie down, I'll be in a moment with something to help you sleep."

Kel nodded, and almost zombie like moved through the living room. Part of her wanted to stop and say something to her friends, but she couldn't muster the energy to lift her head.

Tristan too, forced himself to ignore them, rummaging through the bag until he found the medication that he was using to sleep, measured out half the dosage for Keladry for her weight and then moved towards the bedroom. From corner of his eye the blonde haired female stood as if to follow him into the room, and he held up a hand to ward her away. "Wait. First let Kel get some sleep. Nestor can explain part of what is going on and then I will come out and tell you what she just told me. You need to be prepared with the full story before she wakes up, or you won't be able to help her when we are not here." He paused before going inside. "For what it's worth, I am sorry about my behavior on Thyferra, and hopefully you can trust us…trust me."

Before he entered the room, Nestor stepped outside, laying a supporting hand on his arm. As their eyes met, Tristan recognized determination in his eyes.

Moving close Nestor asked, "Is it true?"

"That's what her meeting was this evening, the inspectors are supposed to stop by later." His eyes flickered before he added, "He left his calling card." He tilted towards the group behind him. "Tell them everything, as much as she knows. They need to trust us, or whatever we plan tonight will not be of consequence." With those words he stepped inside the room, fed Keladry the pills, and then spread another throw over her now peaceful form.

Unbidden, he leaning forward and brush kissed her forehead, whispering a promise. "We should have taken better care of you, but from now on we will." Then setting his shoulders, Tristan reentered the living room, prepared to find a plan that would end this, once and for all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**The Skywalker apartments, Coruscant**

Night.

Guardian of hidden desires, zealous protector of lovers, cruel proprietor of the unknown.

Full of possibilities, and yet sometimes so cold, so empty of hope.

Despite her earlier determination, her confidence of success…

Mara was afraid.

And almost nine hours after her mid-afternoon appointment, nearly half past two in the morning, she found herself standing outside the door to her home not sure of the direction her life was taking.

Treading quietly, Mara slipped through the entryway, past the kitchen toward the bedroom she shared with Luke. As she stepped lightly up the stairs the incandescent flashes of a muted holovid against the living room wall caught her attention. In the flickering din, washed out color reflected off the artificial lighting, revealing a darker hand shaped spot on the coffee table. Recognizing the glove for Luke's prosthetic hand she traced the outline of the couch, making out the top of his head against the pillows.

Coming around to the front of the couch, Mara found her gaze resting on Luke's prone form. His face, creased with worry lines, smoothened out in sleep, while his light breathing reignited the butterflies in her stomach.

Mara loved him too much to destroy their happiness. If there was a way to freeze the moment, place it in a bottle to bring back at a later date…..

But there was not, and Mara, never one to back down from what needed to be done, re-opened their marriage bond, reaching out for the lightly sleeping form before her.

_Luke._

His answer was ready, wry, and somehow restrained. _Welcome back._

Sometimes, being without contact reminded Mara just how much a part of her soul that Luke Skywalker was. His presence was intoxicating, and refilled her very being with light. Light, desperately needed.

She had made a decision, and hoped that the light would remain.

xx

Luke slowly swung his booted feet around, so that he was sitting up; watching silently as Mara slid herself onto the couch next to him. Despite the reopening of their bond, she sat away, unseen in the shadowy recesses not touched by the eerie lighting from the holo.

As he reached for the control for the set, he kept his voice quiet. "Lights low." Immediately brighter, still hewn with grey and shadows, the new light swept the room. He could sense that it gave her the comfort of darkness that she desired, yet flooded her with the possibility of luminescent hours to come.

Turning to her, he was taken aback by the still features, devoid of emotion; closed off except in their bond. "Mara?" He chose his words carefully. "Would you like to talk about it?" He knew it was fruitless to ask. She always came when she was ready.

Shaking her head, Mara's lips turned up into a rueful smile. Letting out the air she had been holding, the Jedi Master shrugged. "I went for a walk."

His eyebrows raised…"A walk?"

She nodded. "A walk. I got back from the hospital a few hours ago, and decided I wasn't quite ready to tell you.'

Luke nodded. "I felt your conflict. I knew you would come back, in your own time."

"Luke." Her tone grew serious, and for a brief moment her eyes closed in pain. _I will beat this._ "I am not well. I have not been well, and after today, it's a possibility that I will not be well for a long time to come." In the brief silence that followed, neither Jedi felt the need to acknowledge the possibility that she would _not_ get well.

Luke glanced at her, his reaction betraying no surprise. "I know."

Sharp accusing green eyes met his grief-stricken, yet determined blues. "You talked to Cilghal."

Luke reached over picked up the glove from the table before him. "When you didn't come home right away, I grew worried. I knew you weren't injured…." He trailed off and then restarted. "Today, I knew something was wrong. I could feel echoes of your aches, and your astonished anger….I always respect your privacy Mara. She did not tell me anything that I could not read from her expression and her subtle suggestions to prepare me." He leaned forward to grasp her hand, surprised to find her moving it away from his reach. Feeling her determination he moved back, shuttling whatever hurt he felt as insignificant to the larger problem they were facing.

Internally steeling herself, Mara brushed a few strands of her hair out of her face. "Luke. You cannot fight this disease for me." Her tone was adamant. "I love you, and I always will love you. But I think…I _know_ that this is my fight." There was a slight tremble of her lip, "We talked to the medics. I can go on all the meds they have to offer, but since they do not know exactly what they are up against, all of them are speculations. Since, I have already fought this thing with the strongest flu meds and force healing trances, Cilghal is going to try and develop a protocol that will leave me with the strength to carry on the fight, alone."

_I_ know my body better than anyone." She let slip an inch of humor, "Including you."

Hesitantly Luke met her eyes, unsure of whether he should fight her decision, while knowing at the same time that it was the only way. "Not alone, Mara. Never alone. You have to agree not to shut yourself away. I will be there for you, _Leia_ will be there for you as will Han, the children, and our friends. Let us be your strength and support." _Maybe this is what your vision was about?_

_I don't know, maybe…_Mara shook her head, weakly insisting, "no one outside the family can know." _No coddling, I can beat this. I will beat this. _At this point she reached through the Force for him, understanding that she would have to give in, for the moment. Letting go of her pride, she fell easily into his embrace.

"Mara, you cannot fight this alone. Maybe each battle will be a struggle between you and the disease, maybe…but you need support. Let us be your support." Luke was soft in his reprimand, his plea to not be shut out…"We can make sure that the extent of the illness is kept quiet for as long as possible, but only if you trust us."

She was silent, before grasping and squeezing his hand in half hearted concession. "I asked to be shown pictures, Luke. They showed me comparative images of my cells, showing how so far, only two patients have survived past two weeks of the onset of symptoms." She wondered whether to voice out her fears. "The first is in a medcenter on Coruscant, and is rapidly failing…"

"And the other?" He asked, even though he knew the answer, could feel that while she had embraced him, another part remained inextricably out of reach.

Instead of replying immediately Mara called out "Lights up." Blinking back the spots she took in the details of the room, seeking to remember the brightness of their lives, knowing that things would be hard. From the colorless carpeting to the iridescent hues of indigo and orange that accented the nerf-leather couch upon which they sat. Like splashes of warmth, an ocean of comfort amidst a sea of desolation, their home urged Mara forward. Her hesitation betrayed her reticence…but there was only one answer to give her husband, to reveal the uncertainty of her condition. Facing the holounit, she watched absently as the time shifted from 3:14 to 3:15 and realized that another forty-five minutes of her life had passed without her conscious awareness. Closing her eyes, she took in a breath of recycled air, and then answered.

"Me."

**End Post 7**


	13. Post 8

**A/N: I'm going to keep posting on time and hope that I do have some readers. If you're reading...review!**

**Timing: **First half—up to Keladry's thoughts in the middle of the post takes place after Leia's dressing down by the Senate in Dark Tide I: Onslaught

Second half, it is fairly obvious that most of it takes place during the aftermath of the destruction on Ithor in Dark Tide II: Ruin

**Post 8**

_The galaxy spins and time whirls by…_

_The events of the past four months cannot go unaccounted. Borsk Fey'lya, as predicted, won the general election to become the fourth Chief of State in the __New__Republic__'s history. _

_Two months after that the Praetorite Vong invaded our galaxy. We would realize, with time, that they were the scouting force for the larger invasion of the Yuuzhan Vong. Chewbacca died, and Belkadan, Dubrillion, Helska…Sernpidal were lost. _

_Eight weeks later, after Leia Organa Solo's rumored dressing down by the Senate, we were still on Coruscant, vaguely aware of the Outer Rim troubles, but preoccupied with local problems. My friends had since returned to Thyferra, but had hatched a plan with Tristan and Nestor intended to keep me safe. All it required was patience, which, once the initial shock had flitted away, I gladly bestowed. _

_Anything to nail my mother's murderer to the wall. _

_We had the full cooperation of the local police bureau, and we returned to the routines, watching everything and everyone around us. But propelled forward by galactic events, Tristan and I moved closer to our intertwined fates._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Coruscant**

**New Republic News Posting 1138-57**

**Monor**** II Festival Deemed a Success, Yet not without Problems**

**Key Words: Atmospheric Phenomena, Nom Anor…**

**Thousands made the pilgrimage to see the accession of the tenth priest-prince Agapos the Tenth. More than the expected numbers, the administration scrambled for breath masks that would allow the visitors to see the famed atmospheric conditions….**

_Ten thousand... _Tristan tapped at the computer console, scrolling down past the descriptions of the ceremony. If just one person had the disease in a crowd of such a large size, any virus of medium strength could spread quickly and virulently. _But what virus is so non-discriminate in who it effects?_ His finger stilled and he continued reading.

**The ceremonies were also marred by insurgents from Zartoc IV who, opposed to their government's relationship with Monor II, attended the ceremony en masse. The group cried out for an end to the false confederations, and for separation from the bureaucracy of the ****New****Republic****. Their leader, Nom Anor was not available for comment. **

_What if this was intentional? Biological terrorism to convince their leaders of their determination…as far as we know the disease was not contagious. No family member bears the symptoms. _

**Their leader Nom Anor, was not available for comment. **

Quickly he reread the sentence.

**Their leader Nom Anor. **

**Nom Anor. **

Frowning, he scrolled up to the top of the article to begin a new search. With deft movements Tristan tapped out a query, and clicked on the first article available.

**New Republic News Posting 8325-RI**

**Negotiations between Rhommamool and Osarian fail, Redhaven falls to Separatist Insurgents. **

**Key Words: Redhaven, Jedi, Nom Anor**

His eyes darted through the article picking out phrases that seemed familiar to him, yet in an entirely different context.

**Separatist, Anti-Republic Rhetoric, …Anti-Technology, Extremists….**

Focusing on a particular paragraph his hand slipped from the console, and moved to rub across his aching head.

**Nom Anor, the separatist leader, is believed to have died after ordering a massive attack on Osa-Prime. Thousands are believed to have perished. This is believed to be a direct result of the breakdown of negotiations between the planets following the visit by former Chief of State Leia Organa Solo, Jedi Mara Jade Skywalker. Commander Ackdool, on the _Mediator, _was unavailable for comment, but witnesses say that the actions of Jedi Knight Wurth Skidder prior to the negotiations further inflamed the situation. **

_Why can't the people of the __New__Republic__ realize that the Jedi are here to save them…_Disgusted, Tristan idly continued to read the article, followed by a grainy image of Nom Anor, which gave him pause. Despite the lack of detail regarding facial features, the separatist leader stood in an eerily familiar manner. A proud manner, an arrogant manner, a statuesque carriage that Tristan vaguely remembered when Iker Rafagr had provided some disjointed advice regarding……

Of its own accord his hand slipped from its position on his forehead falling limply to the table.

Every possible curse he could imagine ran through his head…navigating between articles, he swallowed every possible piece of known, unclassified piece of information on Nom Anor. Mouth dry, he reached for the cup of caf, swished the liquid around in his mouth and placed the cup back on the table.

Tap. Taptaptaptap. Tap.

TapTap. Tapity TapTap.

His right fingers, suddenly infused with unknown energy began to dance to an unknown rhythm on the tablecloth while his left hand issued commands for more from the holonet.

Tap.Tapitytaptap. Taptap.

Tapity. Tapity. TapTap.

Tapity.Tap. Tap.

Tapity-Tapity-Tapity

"Sir." A pressure on his right, the internal song in his head silenced.

Frowning, his other hand stilled, and Tristan broke away from the words scrolling across the screen to appraise a young woman patiently standing next to him. Taking another look at the woman he realized that it was one of the waitresses in the mezzanine level café that he was sitting in.

He looked at her slightly abashed, glancing at the chrono quickly, realizing how long he had been sitting there. "I'm sorry, is it close to closing time?"

The girl shook her head, "No, we're open twenty-four hours, but sir…would it be possible to stop tapping the table?"

Blushing with embarrassment, Tristan murmured apologetically, "Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing that. All apologies."

The girl smiled, "It's not the end of the world, but thank you for being so gracious about it." She tilted her head towards his caf cup lifting the pot in her hand. "More?"

Tristan smiled, "Please." Behind her he saw Nestor sauntering through the entrances and raised his hand in greeting. "And one for my friend, please as well." She nodded and made her way back to the counter.

He waited a moment before beckoning urgently, pulling the opposite chair closer so that Nestor could look at the screen. Almost giddy with anticipation, Tristan tapped the text, "Look at this."

Turning and straddling the chair so that he could lean up against the back, Nestor peered at the screen of the portable datastation. Tristan watched as he blinked once. Twice. And then took his fingers and rubbed his eyes. Nestor continued to stare at the image, waiting until his caf arrived. Then he blinked again, took a few sips of the caf to wake himself up and make sure he wasn't dreaming. After draining his the cup, letting the thick, chocolate flavored liquid trail down his throat leaving behind the aroma of honzcy sweetner he turned to Tristan, convinced they had found their man. "Iker?"

Tristan shook his head in ascent. "Nom Anor."

Nestor, who had, unlike Tristan, been able to listen to the holonetnews in the past two months blinked. "But he's dead. No question about it. A New Republic Cruiser taped his shuttle breaking apart…." He trailed off and looked at the Doctor, whose face appeared to be rejuvenated since that morning. _Oh stars, please let this be true._ Hope beyond hope jolted him into action as he rattled off questions. "Other, clearer images?"

"No, this figure was just as unphotogenic as our Iker."

"None of the holonetnews reports had images, only visuals of the destruction on Osa-Prime. Descriptions?"

"Leader of separatist groups all over the galaxy, leading anti-confederation bands in," Tristan looked up a figure, "four systems, and minus the fake hunchback….it looks like our villain." His chrono beeped, and Tristan glanced at his wrist. "Shavit, we have to go meet Kel at the restaurant, " He hesitated, looking at the image…."I've been researching the planets where the disease made fall for a few hours, and his name popped up as part of the separatist group. I was following the angle that maybe the pathogen was biological terrorism, but the pattern of transfer does not correlate, too many variables. So we can scratch that off the list…but this image, on a whim I glanced at it…I almost didn't…."

Nestor stood up and began clearing the table. "Doctor. Allow me to perform some independent research. You go visit Ms. Stanton, keep her company. We need to keep track of those she interacts with." _Begin to live again…_ "I will comm if I receive confirmation in any form."

Tristan nodded, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. "In any form, however miniscule it is."

xxxx

Shivering, Keladry wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, wincing as some of the narrow beaded fringe slapped against her face. Another being stepped into the entryway to the tapcafe, and Keladry mentally added him to the litany of details that she needed to remember before the night was up.

_Rodian__, Male, slight limp on the right side._

_Two female waitress', both blonde, one about 135, the other with a birthmark on the bridge of her nose. _

Absently, she looked toward the turbolift in the corner and watched as a tall male human stepped onto the walkway. From where she stood, it was easy to admire the clean lines in his clothing, and she could hear Minali's voice giving him a 'ten.' Inwardly grimacing she glanced at her shoes before resuming her musings. _Dark hair, curling slightly by the ears, confident stance, yet contemplative._Roaming over his expression she noticed a slight twitch to the lips, _Dancing-gray eyes that are full of…mirth? Freshness and wonder… _Now not more than fifteen yards away the man raised his arm in an enthusiastic greeting in Keladry's general direction. She turned to glance behind her, and blinked when the glowing expression on the man's face shifted into a frown of confusion.

_Oh dear. _Kel let out a short gasp of epiphany. Feeling the blush rise she tried to stop herself from checking Tristan out again, and found herself covering her red cheeks with her hands. _Smooth!_ _Get a grip Kel!_ Aware of how silly she looked, Keladry wiped the tears of laughter from her face, and greeted the Valdet native with a small wave, calling out his name. As the confused expression transformed into a tentative, yet broad smile, she sighed, admitting to herself something she had known for quite some time. _One smile is all I needed…_._I think I..._

Not finishing the thought Kel stepped forward and found herself swept up into an enormous hug. A little disconcerted, she leaned into Tristan before stepping back to eye him curiously, not surprised when his countenance shifted back to his normal grimness. She linked arms with him, and nudged his side with her elbow, "Come on, let's see how good these Wookiee size portions are."

The tapcafe that they had chosen for the night was neither the most upscale, nor the seediest in this part of Coruscant. Known for the food, the entertainment, the café also was often cited for 'unruly behavior,' or 'incident reports.' Which made it all the more appealing for those looking for a little excitement.

In the case of Tristan, Nestor and Keladry, _The Worshyr Tree_, had been picked for its veritable array of eatables; and the clear view of the door, both of which were a necessity for a relaxed evening out. Tristan and Keladry slid into their seats and were silent for a moment.

"I—"

"So…" Tristan flicked his wrist in deference. "You go first."

Kel smiled, "Nestor can't join us?" _Stupid!_

Again, Tristan smiled…and caught himself, trying not to celebrate too soon. "He's following a lead….on Iker." There was an unnerving numbness in part of his emotions...he was excited, yet...

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Not to be obnoxious or anything, Tristan, but if you have a lead, why aren't you on high speed, blasting away from here to capture him?" She couldn't bring herself to say _kill_.

The doctor shrugged, not quite sure of the answer himself. "We think that Iker Rafagr, was Nom Anor. Right before I came down the lift, Nestor called with some confirmation. He thinks he can make the connection between Nom Anor and Iker's alias Reef Niln."

Keladry nearly leapt from the table in shock. "Nom Anor? He's dead." She looked at Tristan again…_He's relieved. He thinks his task is complete…and now he'll leave…_ Crestfallen, she grew silent, a reaction that her dining partner misinterpreted.

Reaching across the table in comfort, he grasped her right hand in both of his. "No, we're not leaving until you're safe. We promised, Kel. There's no going back on our word."

Kel grimaced, then let out a sardonic laugh. _Figures._ "Thank you, Tristan Romani. Thank You." Before their conversation could go further, a loud slurred, yet familiar, voice caught her attention.

"No. itsok. I'mok." Leaning at the bar, dressed in his navy pants, minus the bloodstripes, a grimy shirt and vest, was Han Solo. He was struggling against some men, "Lemmego. He's gone. I wantofight." The tall figure, who Tristan had met on Danshitie swaggered, or rather stumbled towards some patrons, yelling out in the general direction of the bar. "Get me a drink and a plate of your Chewbacca special for my friend Chewbacca here…" Keladry watched as he gestured to an empty space next to him.

"Chewie? Chewie? Where are you? I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" The pitiful, heartbreaking plea caused Kel to grip Tristan's hand tighter, and they both tilted their heads as the clink of coins hitting the table revealed two men in the booth behind them.

Whispered conversation followed. "Wes, you take the right. I'll take the left, but watch out. Last time he nearly gouged a hole in my cheek." A loud crash gave them pause before the two left all pretence of laying low. The former General of the New Republic had smashed a glass on the counter.

Kel recognized the two beings rushing to his rescue as former Rogue Squadron pilots Wes Janson and Wedge Antilles. She watched Antilles grasp the shoulder of the still form at the bar, giving it a light shake. "Hey Han, buddy. It's time to go home."

"Home. Ok. Lets go to the _Falcon_…."

Wes Janson grabbed Han's other shoulder, looping his arm in a vise grip. "Not the _Falcon_, Solo—how about a shower and then bed."

"No, have to go to the _Falcon._ Have to save Chewie…I couldn't even do that. Not even save Chewbacca."

"Wes, he's bleeding." Wedge Antilles indicated the arm that he was holding, watching as rivulets of blood dripped onto the floor."

The bartender, hearing the noise, came around and gestured to the door. "Hey! Watch the mess." He paused as he too recognized the threesome causing the ruckus, and his heart grew heavy, gruffly changing his mind. "Oh. Nevermind, take him home—he needs some rest."

Tristan's eyes met Kel's as they measured the amount of blood that Solo was losing, mentally calculating his alcohol level. Giving her hand another quick squeeze, he stood up, snatched his napkin of the table and approached the group.

Eyeing him warily, Wedge jerked his head back toward the tables. "Go sit back down, sir."

Shaking his head, Tristan reached diagonally for the bleeding left hand, murmuring softly, "I'm a doctor, and it looks like you need a little bit of help." As he pulled up the rancid sleeve, Solo began to struggle against those holding him, no longer fully coherent. "Hold him still." Tristan tried not to wince as he examined the wound, right above the elbow. Straightening he glanced over at the bar but paused when a glass of water appeared in his line of sight.

Keladry passed it over, "You'll need this."

He tilted his head in thanks and turned back to the three heroes of the Rebellion. Letting the glass hover above the wound he spoke frankly, "I'm not sure if there are any slivers of glass in here, but I'm just going to use the water to clean it. You are probably going to want to call a medic, or a 2-1B to get this flushed out. Hold him, this is going to sting." Gently, he poured the water over the wound washing away the blood, and then handing the glass back to Keladry, used the napkin to bind the wound.

Solo never flinched. He was already beyond the threshold for pain.

As he straightened, Han Solo's face caught his eye; and for a moment Tristan Romani understood what his own grief and anger and sorrow must have looked like. Haggered features, haunted, grief-filled eyes—unable to find purchase for more than three seconds. The eyes narrowed, squinted…and for a very lucid moment Tristan could sense the gears moving as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "Do…Iknow you?"

Silently, Tristan shrugged, and answered knowing that Solo would not remember the conversation later. "We met once, over a year ago on Danshitie." As he spoke he saw the focus in Han Solo's eyes disappear, and he fell back into the despair that had plagued him since Chewbacca had died on Sernpidal.

Wedge hoisted his friend up and reappraised the doctor in front of him. "We should go" he paused, "Thank you." Then the two of them dragged Solo out of the tapcafe and into a waiting speeder.

Subdued, the rest of their meal passed quietly, with nominal conversation, both internalizing their reflections on the human capacity to love another being. Keladry, confused about the state of her friendship with the man sitting across from her, while Tristan recognized his feelings for her for what they were, a growing affection, protectiveness, and a level of tenderness he had felt only once before. On one level he was rejoicing over his earlier news, while this newer breath of life that Kel embodied, was accompanied by a lower, grimmer feeling of betrayal pricking across his senses.

Later that evening, stepping into the turbolift to her apartment, he found himself feeling unsure. Reaching for her hand he grimaced, "Keladry?"

She started and looked up at him, "Yes?" her voice was distracted, as if she was pulling herself from deep thoughts.

"What we saw tonightwith Han Solo. I realize now the extent to which I must have insulted you on Thyferra."

Having caught her attention, he reached for her other hand, "I….I'm sorry."

Her chest tightening, Keladry dropped his hands and placed hers on his shoulders. "Oh Tristan, you apologized a long time ago. I don't need it voiced, but your actions since then have more than proven your true character." She hesitated, "Grief, effects us all, in different ways." The lift swished open, and they made their way to her front door before he spoke again.

"Kel," His voice was soft, almost inaudible, and he could feel his heart thumping against his chest. Slowly, she turned around and Tristan raised a hand to smooth back a strand of her dark hair, looking into her hazel eyes. Before his will disappeared he leaned forward, softly kissing her good night.

Straightening, he smiled again, oblivious to the effect it had on the petite woman in front of him. She almost, just almost, sighed aloud. Reaching behind her, he punched in the code to her quarters, gently pushing her inside, and Keladry knew the millions of questions she had no longer mattered. She turned a few steps past the doorway and gave him a small wave goodbye until the door slid closed.

For a moment he stood there, not wanting to leave, yet knowing that he could not stay. With a lightness of heart, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and leisurely meandered down the hall. No description of the brightest star in the sky, glittering, smelling of fresh earth on a spring day as the colors before him opened, could come near to the quick dance in his step, and the twirling music of his heart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Even now, I cannot help but remember…and smile._

_It was not long though, before the war found us...with the government finally paying attention to the danger, certain sections of civilian relief efforts mobilized. With the fall of Garqi, a call for medical personnel transferred our group as part of the medical unit attached to the **Ralroost**__floating above the graceful planet of Ithor. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Word spread quickly. At first mere murmurs, rumors, the reality of the horrific news traveled with deliberate speed like a womprat outrunning a Krayt Dragon from the _Chimera's _docking bayto the personnel of the New Republic fleet. Some descriptions were ludicrous, while others, achingly alarmingSenator Elegos A'Kla had returned from the enemy...

...dead. Those medics who had seen the body, were at a loss for words, and Nestor listened, detached as those that could speak described the gleaming gems, the enameled bones dipped in platinum and gold, the polished teeth. All a caricature of the gentle senator from Caamas, garish and devoid of his natural form.

"Horn...almost sick to his stomach. They were friends you know..."

"Serves him right, walking straight into the enemies claws..."

"Why didn't the Jedi stop this? Aren't they supposed to protect us?"

Nestor's head snapped up, sickened at the display of posturing, and recrimination. _How can the Jedi protect us, when they are held up to such a high pedestal? Can they ever meet your standards? _Elegos A'Kla died, these harpies weren't honoring their dead they were calculating, judging, and in Nestor's mind causing more harm than good. He grabbed the last case of sanitized instruments, handed them to the medical droid organizing the area, then left the room to reload the hovercart. As he made his way back to the ship. He could sense the muted electricity of preparation. There was a battle coming. He could feel it. They could feel it. Why else would they be massing at Ithor? Every day, more and more...and the refugee and inhabitants of the _Tafanda__Bay_had all been evacuated.

The corridor to the docking area was crowded with pilots, enlisted men, crewers and officers, jostling each other as they passed. Swinging his body to avoid imminent collision, Nestor hopped back on one leg, using the cart to regain his balance. As his scanned the crowd, he paused, sure he had just seen a familiar profile cross his path. Whirling around, resting one hand to steady the cart he spotted her again, walking away.

"Syla!" He waited a moment and then a little louder, "Syla!" The petite woman hitched and turned. She hesitated a moment then weaved back through the crowed toward where Nestor stood.

"Hey." Her voice was soft, thick with nerves. "How are things?"

Eyeing her curiously, Nestor reevaluated what he had planned to say since he had first received her letter..."Sorry I didn't write back right away. Thank you for forwarding that message, it meant the world to us."

Syla shrugged, cognizant of where they were having the conversation. "Nestor, I knew it was important...Listen, can we talk in a less public place?"

Nodding, he gestured to the cart. "Want a ride?"

Syla grinned, remembering a similar situation on Tatooine. "I think, this time I'll walk."

As they conversed along the corridor, Nestor made note of the changes. She was taller than Keladry, slim, with straight brown hair that hung in a ponytail behind her back. Her honey colored-skin bore the same blush of urgency that most on the ship had knowing that they would soon be up to their arms in injuries and...the fetid smell of death. Stepping onto the ramp of the_ Selanore_ he noticed her limping and reached out to see if she needed help.

She shook her head, continuing to talk about the casualty rates that the medics had been given. "I have yet to see a Vong warrior, but from what I heard about the fight on Garqi...we're going to loose a lot more than we save."

He grunted, still unsure of how to respond.

Now in the enclosed cockpit, cocooned from the world outside, Nestor tipped his head towards Syla. It had been almost half a year since her message. Since then they had passed along various tidbits of information, but nothing specific. _Feelings of affection, and love should be initially expressed in person. _

Focused, he looked at her again, before pulling out the holodisc she had sent. "I..."

Syla, a stoic woman, not likely to blush over matters of the heart, bit her lip and then looked up. "I meant what I said, Tor. I think that I'm in love with you." Her forthright manner was normally gentle in nature, but with that statement she shocked even herself.

He froze, and for once the duty bound soldier, the man who always thought first of Tristan Romani before his own needs, looked at this woman and realized that it was a moment of personal truth. Suddenly thrust into love; unsure of the consequences to him and to his charge, he had found a confidant on Tatooine. Quite simply, it had started out after he had slipped during that Sabaac game, where Nestor had realized that somewhere in the middle of all this Tristan had become a friend. That night, the next night, and the night after that, Syla had helped him understand...had helped him balance their new relationship in his mind. On the fourth day...he closed his eyes remembering their first kiss beneath the clear skies of Tatooine...Nestor was no innocent to the ways of the world, but twenty years earlier he would not have let his guard down enough to _feel. _Isa had come into his life, priorities shifted, and somewhere in the intervening years...something had changed.

Nestor's eyes snapped open and in a rough, almost stern manner, he crossed the space between them, placed his hands on either side of her head and scolded.

"Syla. Of course I love you too. Do not doubt it. Ever." And he kissed her.

Long. Tenderly, and deep.

When he pulled back, he looked into her sparkling eyes, and embraced her again. With her head nestled in his shoulder Syla murmured. "Good, at least that's over with. Now what else is wrong?"

He couldn't help but laugh, but then grew serious enough to open the viewport on the cockpit. "How did you know?"

She smiled, "I could tell that you've been thinking. Something has happened... no?"

Swiveling the chair around he gestured to where the co-pilot sat, and peered at her. "Quite a bit." Slowly, he recounted the events of the past few months, identifying Elbereth's disease, the content of the message that Syla had passed on, Iker RafagrNom Anor's death...

"All of the things we had set out to do...are done, but I'm hesitant to even mention going home."

"Because?" She asked.

"Because we still do not have leads on Keladry's stalker. Because Tristan is finally moving on, that Keladry and Tristan are edging towards a path that will bring both permanent sanity." He tapped his foot against the base of the seat. "More importantly, because of you." Silent for a moment he watched as the support teams fueled up the squadron of X-wings. "Also, I think we need to see what's going on here, so that if things get dangerous, we can warn our people."

Syla face grew ashen. "Senator A'Kla's death."

Nestor nodded, "I know. The reactions to it are astounding, variant, bordering on lackadaisical. This is not going to be an easy fight."

Syla leaned forward, elbows to knees. "There's more, is there not?"

Dropping his voice to a whisper Nestor mirrored her position. "I want to believe that the villain is dead, but he did this before, and we believed it. Faking his death once was not hard. How difficult could it be to do it again?"

"Against a New Republic Cruiser with life reading sensors?" Syla was unconvinced, "Yet, I heard a rumor that Ysanne Isrard did it...but that was a long time ago."

"I know...but we have been running on patience for a long time. I know Tristan has to see the patterns as well, but for some reason has chosen to ignore it. So we will wait."

Syla stood up slowly, "I get the feeling that only Tristan will know." Standing on her tiptoes she kissed Nestor lightly. "Come on Tor, one battle at a time."

xxxx

The Klaxxon alarms had begun wailing hours ago, and the medical bay was at the ready, with teams waiting by each of the docking bays and medical droids and doctors standing by in the main medical section.

No one came. No broken arms, no burns, no...EV's.

From the docking bay, the abnormal movement of the asteroid shaped ships, coralskippers, struck a malaise of unease on those waiting to be deployed. Beyond the silence of space, the medical corps, the support troops, and many others watched as ship after ship exploded, balls of fire leaving behind hazes of smoke. Goosebumps rising, the lack of initial transports casualties was disheartening, indicative of the Vong's forceful and deadly tactics.

_Someone once said that warfare was moments of pure boredom punctuated by periods of sheer chaos and terror... _For Dr. Keladry Stanton, years of working in the ER schooled her in patience, thinking quickly and clearly, and conserving energy during the tense waiting periods.

Standing next to her, Tristan squeezed her forearm leaning sideways to whisper. "We should have had some patients by now. I commed central, and no one has reported incoming."

Kel shrugged, the warmth of his fingers soothing her nerves. "We'll get a lot more once the ground forces are sent up."

"But the pilots?" The ship shook slightly as something hit the defensive shields.

Her voice was tight, low..."I don't even want to guess."

Next to her a young medic pointed to the opening magcon field, where a battle damaged transport was drifting in... "We're in business."

As the ship settled in, the communications officer on deck ran over. "Doctor Romani, three criticals, EV. The shuttle medic says that all three A-wing pilots are suffering from burns...one has already gone into shock."

"Hey, there haven't been any explosions out there for a few minutes. What's going on?" It was the same young medic, Medic Lidrian.

The comm officer looked at him sharply. "There's going to be a one week truce, Admiral Kre'fey just announced it." He touched his earpiece before turning back to them. "The injured on the ground will start coming up now. Some are being transferred to the _Tafanda__Bay_, but most will be transported up to the ships." Briskly he marched off to relay other orders.

Tristan and Keladry had been listening while watching as the transport came to a quick landing. Sprinting across the hanger they helped to unload the injured pilots, placing them on stretchers, attaching Oxygen masks and slathering on layers of burn salve. Tristan glanced at Keladry to make sure she was good to go, and double clicked on his comm.to the medical bay where 21-B's and other doctor's were waiting. "Three incoming,"

There was a measure of static and an acknowledgement.

The next ten hours were a whirlwind of activity. Even with the truce, post battle injuries were appearing at a remarkable rate. Sliced hands, punctured by biological staffs and bones broken in odd angles. Blood, mingled with sweat, mingled with tears...and the doctors and 2-1B's fought as they always fought with the tools of the trade, and heart.

For every death, news trickled in about the survivors. Eight out of the Twelve Rogues, alive, Gavin Darklighter and Jaina Solo included.

The door to the bay slammed open and a Twi'lek female was wheeled in at almost a breakneck speed. Almost immediately Tristan realized she was in perilous condition based on the slight frothiness at her mouth. He glanced at the stretcher bearers who had brought her in. "Do we have any information on what happened?"

"Bitten by an amphistaff. Poison."

Upon those words, Tristan turned back to find the 2-1B pulling out the materials to purge her bloodlines. Deftly inserting an IV, Tristan spoke to the female, surprised to see that she was conscious. "I'm Dr. Romani. What's your name?" He wiped some saliva off her bruised chin.

"Daeshara'cor." Her voice rasped out the name, and then she began to cough uncontrollably.

"Sir, the blood is not being decontaminated fast enough." Programmed for frankness, the 2-1B had lowered its modulators. "Dialysis, and a transfusion?"

Tristan nodded, crossing the room "Medic Elgian." He yelled to the second doctor assigned to him. "I need some bacta patches and blood for a transfusion. Twil'ek Type A."

He reached to reinsert the IV, and found her hand on his arm, stilling further action. Her eyes were open, wide and slightly glazed over.

"There's nothing you can do. The Force..." She coughed lightly, "the Force wills it. The poison...too much."

_One of the Jedi..._Hesitating, Tristan looked at the readouts, her heart rate was steadily failing. She was right. "What do you need Daeshara'cor?" Sadly he looked at her with respect.

She wheezed, "Move me to the wardroom. Must. See. An...' Her chest rattled again. "Anakin."

Nodding Tristan gestured to the 2-1B sending instructions to inform him of any changes.

He never saw her again, finding out much later, that she had become one with the Force.

Puzzling over that news he let the warm water from the sink in the ready room trickle down his forearms to waterfall past the tips of his fingers. _She just faded away, peacefully. So...painlessly. _A whisper of someone else joining him at the sinks broke him out of his reverie. He blinked.

"Nurse Intindola!"

"Dr. Romani, Syla. Please." She looked tired, exhausted really.

"Tristan."

Syla graciously nodded her head.

"Have you seen Nestor yet? He'll be happy to see you." Tristan grinned inwardly. He had been more than depressed on Tatooine, but had still been able to notice the blossoming relationship between Alluvia and the pretty nurse.

She beamed, and nodded.

Taking his foot off the pedal, Tristan shook his hands to remove excess water, then dried them on a lintless chart towel. "Did you hear the news?"

"One week, and then the duel?"

"Duel?"

Syla frowned, "Jedi Corran Horn will fight the leader, Ithor for some remains."

"Emperor's Black Bones!" Tristan watched as she dried her hands and they began moving towards the cafeteria together. "From what I've heard...these beings...they aren't easy to kill. Even for a Jedi." He thought about the Twi'lek again. "How is this possible?"

She shrugged, "I don't know but apparently we have to prepare, just in case something goes wrong." She glanced oddly at the man standing next to her. _Nestor is right. He has changed._ Gone was the shuddering, bundle of nerves, the workaholic. Gone was the haunted look upon his face. "Where are you headed?"

"To eat, I get the feeling that after this week is up; things are only going to get worse."

xxxxxxxxxx

And he was right. Almost a week and a day later Corran Horn was bobbing in bacta, perhaps not so oblivious to the destruction that the Yuuzhan Vong had wracked on Ithor. The Jedi that remained on the _Ralroost_ were walking zombies. Despite their stoicism, Tristan could tell from the telltale rings around their eyes, and isolated behavior that whatever was going on the Ithorian world, however he felt looking at the vestiges of vaporization and death left of the magnificent and revered planet; the Jedi felt it tenfold.

Late one night, following his shift in the bacta center, he found himself walking not towards Keladry's cabin to see if she still wanted that late night cup of caf, but rather towards one of the few ready rooms with a visual of Ithor. Due to the lateness of the hour, and perhaps the denial that many of the New Republic citizens were facing, he was not surprised to find it empty. If they did not have to face the problem, it was easier to accept and move on.

He felt edgy and unwilling to rest. Like many others he was struggling to deal with a upswell of anger and hatred toward the Vong, while at the same time trembled with indignation at the tag that Corran Horn was being given.

"The Man who Killed Ithor."

_How can a people who are so compassionate and have fought so hard to return from the iron fist of the Empire, to now work with the Remnant, be so cold?_ He understood that it was the nature of politics, that certain senators saw the Jedi as malefactors, as a threat to their local power base, but he did not envy the reception Horn would receive when he was decanted.

He was staring out at the viewport, slouched down into a high backed armchair, transcribing some of his notes from the day's cases, and trying rather to stave revulsion at the dying planet below them. Behind him, he heard the door swish open.

A trio of voices trickled in, and Tristan recognized them as a group of younger human medics from core and mid-rim territories. Not meaning to eavesdrop, but not in the mood to make his existence known, he decided to remain quiet, hoping that the group would leave quickly.

"Did you see him?" The question was followed by an unladylike snort.

"Yeah, I can't believe they're letting him live." Male 1 was angry, resentful.

"After what he did to Ithor; stars the idiot should be tied to the closest Batsfour tree and left to rot with the rest of the planet." _That sounds like Nurse Ikendoran._

Male 1:"It's a Bafforr tree, moron."

"Who cares."

The female softly mused, "I wonder if...the Jedi are useless. I mean look at them, they do things without thinking. Foolhardy."

Male 1: "All high and mighty, walking around with pained expression. Its all theatrics. Pretending they care that Ithor was destroyed." There was a _wumph_indicating that he had thrown himself onto one of the sofas.

Ikendoran replied coldly, "Maybe the Emperor had it right. I saw a Twi'lek Jedi die today. She just disappeared." He snapped. "Like that."

Snap. Snap.

"I saw Jacen Solo."

The first male groaned at the girls wistful voice. "Oh. No. Don't you start this again."

"It's too bad that I have to hate him now." A dramatic sigh.

"Don't worry Lisel, I'll be here to comfort you." Ikendoran laughed roughly.

"Ha. Ha."

Snap. Snap. Tristan shifted slightly in his seat, his blood beginning to boil.

"Seriously, though," It was Ikendoran again. "We should draw up a list. One hundred and one ways to get rid of a meddlesome Jedi named Corran Horn."

"Easy. With a lightsaber."

"Ah but how? Come on we're medics, we know what wounds inflict the most pain." Her voice had grown sly.

Snap. Snap.

"Drown him in bacta."

Snap. Snap.

"That would waste the good stuff for those who get injured."

Snap. Snap.

"Hey, Torin, pass me another bottle." There was a clink as an empty bottle was thrown on the table. For a moment while the first guy drank, his noisy swallowing filling up the hollowed room.

Snap. Snap.

"Wait a second. Let's toast Ithor."

Snap. Snap. Snap.

"Will you stop snapping. It's giving me a headache."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap.

Two more bottles opened, and there was a silent rustle as they stood up, obviously inebriated beyond reason. The girl spoke first. "To Ithor. We're sorry you're gone..."

"_Tafanda__Bay_was nice."

"And we're glad it wasn't our planet." They paused mid-sip as the door to the lounge swished open.

A new voice popped in. "Hello, you have not by any chance seen Dr. Romani have you?" Tristan recognized Keladry's soft timbre.

There were a chorus of "No's"

"If you see him. Let them know that I'm looking for him."

"Oh, we will." The insinuation was overt. _Why you little..._

The phrase rang in the air and it was obvious that Keladry had yet to move from the doorway. Tristan could imagine the expression on her lovely face, the one which made everyone in the room pay attention, and do as they were told. "Make sure you do." The door slid shut, and the silence in the room erupted into laughter.

Unable to listen to more, Tristan slowly turned the armchair he was in, and watched the three of them, so insular that they did not even notice that they were being watched.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Clap. At the sixth hollow sound of his hands hitting together he had their attention.

"Dooccttor Romani." The girl, Lisel stuttered in surprise, stopping when she saw his expression.

Standing up he briskly walked to the door, stuck his head outside and called out to Keladry. "Dr. Stanton!" She turned, smiling and jogged back to where was.

"Tristan, I just asked if you..." she trailed staring at his outstretched hand.

"Take this." It was his commlink. "Find the deck officer in charge of discipline. And playback the recording on the memory chip. I'll hold them here. Also check the logs to see if either Lisel Manalyina, Ikendoran...and he trailed off..."

"Torin Shimin Drik." She supplied the name of the second guy.

"Torin Shimin Drik. See if they're scheduled for duty in the next six hours, or were just on duty."

She nodded, confused, but walked away at a brisk pace.

He turned around and put himself in front of the door quietly appraising the three individuals in the room. The chilly atmosphere conveyed that any humor they saw in their previous conversation had evaporated.

"Well."

In her drunken stupor, the girl started babbling. "Sir, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to insult Dr. Stanton."

The boys, taking a cue from her bobbed their heads in agreement.

Raising an eyebrow, Tristan smiled tightly. "You think this is about Keladry?" They grew confused. "On the contrary. I think that if you remember your words for the past half hour, you'll realize that your conversation could be purported as meditation on murder."

He pointed behind them to viewport..."Not to mention no shred of respect towards a species, more intelligent that any of us, might I add, that just lost their entire world."

He looked at them, realizing his anger was slipping out. "How many of you went out onto Ithor before she was destroyed? How many of you have been on battle duty to be the first one's to see the injured?"

Neither of them had the nerve to look him in his eye. "We see death on a daily basis. How could you...even begin to fathom killing another being?" A voice from his subconscious jolted him into conscious thought. _How could you planned on killing Iker when your life has been devoted to the preservation of life._

In his silence, Ikendoran spoke up, defensive. "You have to admit Corran Horn did bring this upon us."

Tristan eyed him, "Did he? Did he really?" He gestured to the window, "Move closer, look at the destruction. Did Corran Horn do that? He tried to find a solution to this problem, putting his personal life on the line that would save Ithor. It was the _Vong_ who betrayed the deal, revealing that they lack honor.

It was Yuuzhan Vong bombs that destroyed Ithor, not Corran Horn. This past week you saw the dead, you saw the dying. Can one man destroy a planet?"

"Palpatine did." His head snapped at the young medic, still insolent. "With a machine, that Governor Tarkin and others behind the—"

Tristan rebutted, interrupted. "Alderaan. Yes. But who was blamed? The men who were in that battle station. Governor Tarkin, The Emperor. _Darth Vader_. All those who were the agents of action. Jedi Horn deserves your respect, not your contempt."

"The Jedi are trying to become a hegemonic power over us! They're controlling all our minds." Conspiracy and hysteria tinged Torin's voice.

It was Tristan's turn to laugh. "You think so? Incredible." He shook his head. "I pity all of you. Really, I do." His voice became filled with emotion. "One of these days you will face death, and realize that your ability to speak out, your ability to have an opinion. Your ability to be who you choose to be rather than a clone...is thanks to a Jedi." He broke off as a light tap on the door. "Do not move from that viewport. Imagine that was your home. Imagine that your family has just been transported off and just been told they can never..._never_ go back."

He unlocked the door, letting in Keladry, two guards, and a sour faced deck officer whose stern gaze bore holes into the young medics.

The deck officer was firm. "I think an evening in the brig will do you well. According the schedule, two of you were on duty, but all three of you will face charges for leaving the medical bay unattended. Sober up, civilians you may be, but while you are on this ship you are expected to behave as members of the New Republic Military." He paused and turned to Keladry and Tristan. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will make sure that the head of the medical corp is appraised of the situation."

Keladry nodded. "We'll make sure to fill out our reports by the morning."

As the door slid shut, the two doctors found themselves alone.

Examining Tristan's face, Keladry noted the taunt cheek bones, stretched with stress. His eyes were glowering. She watched as he visibly tore himself from staring at the closed door, his shoulders shifting to a relaxed stance. She remained silent as he crossed the room, reoccupied the chair he had been sitting in earlier once again facing the ruined planet. Following, she perched next to him. "We heard what you said. The deck officer was on his way back from the mess...everything alright?"

Settling herself on the arm she stretched her fingers, playing with his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh-uh. I need to think." Tristan replied, his low voice barely recognizable. _I need to think about my actions..._He could feel the latent fury, the blackened hatred that stretched across his senses. He could feel the darkness, but he didn't understand it..._what am I angry about?_

"Ok." She grew silent. "I'm here, you know. So whenever you are ready." As always, her voice became lilting, when she got nervous. Looking out at the window, her heart heavy with sorrow, realized that she could not put off what she really wanted to say. Not anymore. Even if he was not ready to say it back in return...he needed to know. Life was too short. She did not want to be looking back on her life, thinking..._What if I told him when I had the chance..._

Taking a deep breath, she gently turned his face to her. His eyes were lowered in rumination and it was obvious he was trying to regain composure. Using her fingers she massaged his temple, removing the lines of stress. "I know this may not be the right time, but I can't think of a point in the future where it _will _be the right time. Tristan, you don't need to say anything back, but I just wanted to say..." Keladry sighed, "I love you, T."

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"I love you, T."

Like a thunderclap, Tristan's eyes met hers, pupils widening, his dark thoughts replaced by the irrevocable sorrow that tinged the memory of his late wife. The last memory he had with Elbereth rose up, unbidden. It was right after Elbereth's collapse, during their estrangement when Tristan struggled with responsibility and his role as a leader. Fears that now seemed trivial compared to the events that came afterward.

She had been so ill...

_As a doctor, he was familiar with just how scary loved one's looked when they were under tubes and monitors, but seeing her shocked him all the same. Her violet eyes, still dim and glazed over, seemed to clear for a moment as she focused on Tristan. Her appearance was sallow, almost waiflikeas if she was being dominated and under enormous pressure. He collapsed on the floor, gripping her arm, and he heard her sigh. _

_"Oh Tristan."_

_"Elbereth, I'm sorry. My actions have been inexcusable, I've tried, I'm trying to overcome these irrational fears, but they keep coming back, keep attacking my conscience. I want this child, I doI swear on the Force and our love, that I never meant you ill. I was..."_

_"Afraid, " She began stroking his head, "Oh Tristan, I was determined to convince you that we were worth it, that we would overcome the fear, together. I had vowed after last night, that I would…move out, that I would…leave you until you worked it out, but I couldn't, I could never do that…" her voice broke, "Don't you know that you are all that I have left? I know that your fears are the product of your upbringing, brought on by my family, I KNOW that…" _

_"Shhwe agreed that we must be strong, that it is up to us to break through our pasts, and work to build a new life. I made that vow, and at the first true test of our new life…I broke it." Her cheeks were soft as he wiped away her tears. "Don't cry..please?…My fear controlled me, but no more. Last night, after you left, I was struck by the ridiculousness of it all. That I was giving up something that meant more to me then life itself, so that I could wallow in self-pity and my own self-propagating ego of how much of a failure I was. I got up early so that I could pick up something…" He brought from his pocket a small ring box. "This is my pledge, my vow, that I will protect you, and I swear, I will never leave you." _

_Elbereth__ opened the box, and Tristan saw her eyes sparkle, "I love you, T." He stayed next to her, on the floor, until she fell asleep. As he drifted off he reviewed the days events, vowing to meet Iker and find out exactly what was going on. When he finally drifted off, his reflex was to cover her hand with his own, symbolically enclosing the tiny silver baby rattle in a parental embrace. _

The rattle was now buried somewhere beneath the rubble of that past life, and Iker...he had never been able to him...he had disappeared by the end of the week.

"Tristan...I swear, I will never leave you."

He heard Keladry's plea still half caught in his memory, feeling the roar of his anger and self-recrimination fresh in his ears. She understood that he wasn't ready, and he loved her for it. Opening the eyes that he had not known he had closed, he pulled her close. All of a sudden the sadness evaporated, the slick and oily negativity replaced with a sudden feeling of tenderness.

His lips hovered before hers, whispering a soft, "thank you" before they were pressed together, trying to find a measure of happiness in the whirlpool of war.

But in the back of his mind, Tristan heard Elbereth's voice, and he couldn't help but see accusing violet eyes, tinged with sorrow at his unfaithfulness.

**End Post 8**

**Credit: **

All of this was written by me...but a lot of the information about Nom Anor and Monor II/Rhommomool conflict was from the database and Vector Prime. The incident with Han Solo is actually based off what we saw in Dark Tide I: Onslaught where Han asks Threepio for a list of bars with the highest incident ratingsand then Leia tells the droid to call one of the Rogues and see if they can check on him.

All issues dealing with Elgos and Corran Horn etc are from _Dark Tide II: Ruin ._ The situation with Daeshara'cor is based also on a situation from the bookshe was an influence on Anakin Solo, and the beginning of us seeing him develop as a character. I wanted to make the medical sequence seem to fit in with the bookso I thought I'd use her as a familiar face. Also, the quotation Keladry uses about battle is used by Wedge Antilles in one of the Rogue Squadron books.

Also the section with Elbereth is from Part II of the trilogy.


	14. Post 9

**A/N **First of all—I was really excited to see a review...

Kez! Thank you very much, I'm glad you're enjoying it. The comments are much appreciated.

Some background. This post, as you'll see, I feel like its one of my best written "Posts" just b/c of the way things turn out between Kel and Tristan. The letter from Elbereth is also something that just wrote itself, and i'm curious to see how you all feel.

**Timeline: **Post 9: First part is during the end of _Balance Point_. Second half is during a very specific incident in _Edge of Victory II: Rebirth. _(There's a quick commentary on those events next)

**Setting: **Explanation: The second half of this post takes place during _Edge of Victory: Rebirth_ As we find out in Balance Point: Mara Jade Skywalker is pregnant, and has been able to put her disease in remission due to tears provided by the Fosh (Old Republic Jedi) Veregre. Well, during _Rebirth_ We find out that due to the hunting down of Jedi, and the security breaches by Anakin and Talon Karrde to save Tahiri and the Jedi Academy on Yavin in _Conquest_ Borsk Fey'lya is forced to request that they are arrested. At the onset of this news, Mara realizes something is wrong with her child, exposure to an unknown chemical agent (aka the very tears that were holding the disease at bay) and is rushed to see her doctorsIsm Oolos, Cilghal while frantically packing to also leave the planet. It's about 4-6 months since BP...and Rogue Squadron has just asked Jaina to extend her leave of absence from the squadron. As the Skywalkers and Jaina try to leave the system Rogue Squadron comes up prepared to defend them...but Luke convinces Gavin to back down, not wanting to destroy the very Democracy they had fought forand not wanting to be responsible for a coup. (On a happy note, so fed up Gavin is, that he apologizes to Jaina for not standing by her.)

**Post 9**

_The galaxy spins and time whirls by…_

_So much has been lost. _

_So much has been gained. _

_The war has been heaving forward for a year, and no one is the same. The arms of the Vong have shifted to capture Tynna, Gyndine, and Hapes—63 worlds not lost, but a fleet destroyed at Fondor in a blink of an eye. Breaking into fragments the __New__Republic__ finds itself fighting a slippery battle—with invisible enemies fighting from the inside out. Traitors who choose to take the cowardly way out; collaborators, and mercenaries like the Peace Brigade._

_NREMAT has been converted into a branch of the government's refugee agency SELCORE, The New Republic Senate Select Committee for Refugees_. _Choosing between relative safety on Coruscant, and aiding the war effort the four of us—Syla, Nestor Tristan and I—decided upon the latter. Assigned to a ship transporting refugee's to Duro, we sped through hyperspace presently safe from the path of the Yuuzhan Vong._

_Or so we thought...or so we hoped..._

_On a micro level, my personal danger had been shunted aside. After all, our movements were erratic, and at times untraceable. So when my mysterious 'friend' was finally identified..._

_Wait. Watch. Our hunt begins... _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**En Route to Duro**

Traveling on the refugee ship _Fatem_Dr. Delan Lind struggled to bind the wound of a young Rodian female. Suffering from shock, her body trembled with fever while her eyes traveled around the cavernous mess hall turned living space as if absorbing the features of the many victims squashed together in filthy squalor. Softly, he tried to regain her attention, "Ms. Tell me, where are you from?" He had learned that often, speaking of home helped those left without roots to collect their thoughts. The concrete existence of the past, helped their mind to refocus, to see past the disconcertion and find steady ground. Of course, it was not a cure all, and had, on occasion, backfired.

Not all the time.

Achingly her wide bulbous eyes turned to him, a trickle of blood slipping through the dressing, down her face. Quickly, Lind changed the gauze, taking her hand, showing her how to press it for compression. He had returned to splinting her sprained wrist when he noticed that she was whispering. "All gone...all..gone. Minali and her politician boyfriend, gone. Don't know where." She whimpered, "We got caught by some Peace Brigader's, who thought that we were hiding a Jedi. We were separated. And Ignace wouldn't leave his wife, who finally...decided to come to live with him again, but now refused to leave the planet."

She adjusted her arm, changed topics before resuming "You're doing it wrong."

"Hmm?" He glanced back up at her. "Doing what wrong?"

"Cross, bilateral, cross, cross, bilateral. The wrapping for a double sprain."

He looked at her again, "How..." he changed his mind and asked his second question first. "Was it sprained before today?"

"Yes."

"Where were you trained?"

"Thyferra."

Lind looked at her shocked, _Had the Vong gotten that far? _Mechanically he removed the dressing and began tying it with a brace to further limit its movement.

Sensing his question she shook her head, "No, we were volunteers, leaving the planet to help after Fondor, but something went wrong. Hyperdrive. The transport that came to our aide was filled with Traitors. Traitors."

Dr. Lind nodded, the _Fatem_ had been transporting refugee's to Duro after the Salliche Ag had withdrawn his offer to take any more at Ruan. They had come across a group of ships with a knocked out hyperdrive just coreward from Fondor. Somehow they had managed to overshoot the remains of the Hapan fleet, and had dropped out along the far end of the Rimma Trade Route. Whatever the Peace Brigade had been looking for, once they realized it was not on their ship, they abandoned it to its fate; stripped of provisions and with a few dead in their wake.

Another whimper.

"Am I hurting you?"

She shook her head. "No. They killed my husband, Illghazi. They didn't even consider that he was telling the truth." She was remarkably composed. Her expression was blank.

Standing Dr. Lind snagged an extra blanket from a passing 9-P0. "Here, I'll send another doctor around to check on you in a few minutes. If you feel strange, ask one of the children to find me, or one of the other Doctors." He kneeled back down squeezing her shoulders in comfort. "I know it hurts, and it won't help for me to say that the pain will eventually go away. All I can say is to take the little hopes, the little joys and use them. The Vong may destroy our families and our homes, but they cannot take our spirits."

Resolutely, Natir watched as he walked away, carefully testing her wrist. The transport was cramped, and she was sure entirely beyond its capacity. Everywhere she looked there was a wide berth of species, even some she had never seen before. Her mind went blank as she struggled to come to grips with the events of the past few days. Illghazi had just...died.

The ringing of the blaster, red beam, and as he was hit, his face always peaceful had been contorted in pain. And he had had only eyes for her, mere instances before they closed. To push back the memories, Natir tried to focus on those around her, searching for any ounce of familiarity, patterns.

In the large room the species had segregated themselves by planetary affiliation. She watched a tiny Sullustan child hopping around on one foot, and found herself smiling as his isolated play piqued the attention of other young. The ball that he had been holding slipped from his finger and her eyes shifted to follow it, and saw it stop at the feet of a well dressed human. Absently, she examined the threadbare clothing he wore, a sense of familiarity and déjà vu sparking through her mind. There was an insignia on his shoulder, a red symbol of the New Republic. A member of the NREMAT...no SELCORE medical team.

There was a passing droid, and she turned suddenly to ask for this man's name, only to feel her chest tighten from the sudden move. Unable to breathe she leaned back her hands clawing at the folds of the blanket in which she was wrapped. Moments stretched to eternity and she vaguely remembered a Bith looking over her with concern before the spots slowly began to clear, and her breathing became unlabored. Grasping hands helped her up into a sitting position, and she saw Doctor Lind placing an injector into his pocket.

"Almost gave us a fright there."

"Sorry," she rasped.

"No sudden moves. You have to take it easy for a few days. Ok?" He smiled. "I'm going to be on my break for the next few hours, but I wanted to introduce you to the doctor who can help you. Of course there are 2-1B's as well, but in case you wanted to talk to someone..." He gestured behind him to a female figure, who was making her way over from a previous patient. A woman with long dark curly hair and compassionate eyes. "Doctor Stanton."

For a moment the two of them stared, astounded, a million different thoughts crossing between them, most notably Illghazi's absence. Keladry Stanton dropped to her knees to embrace her best friend. "Natir. Oh..stars. Natir." After a few moments she felt Delan's warm hand on her shoulder, and she glanced upward.

Standing, she beamed at her colleague, wiping away tears of joy. "Delan, I'd like you to meet one of my best friends, Natir Elgardy."

He smiled back at the female Rodian whose sadness had been, for the moment, pushed back. Then to Dr. Stanton. "I'll leave you two to catch up. I'll be back at 0400."

Kel glanced at him. "Do you think it would be all right if I moved her in with Syla and I?"

Dr. Lind, her superior on the _Fatem_, nodded briskly. "I can't see why not. I'll send Nestor over to help you transport her."

Before he left he looked at his patient sagely. "Little hopes. Little Joys." He touched palm to his heart and walked slowly away.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

A few hours out from Duro, Nestor found himself on the watch for the morgue. Initially the _Fatem_ had been a luxury liner transporting those who could afford around the galaxy. Its climate controlled XG fridgeration unit, in days past used for storage of choice cuts of nerf steak, corellian rhyshcate and the sweetest Alderaanian wine was now filled with remains. Every once in a while a desperate refugee would limp in looking for valuable for anything that may offer them solace or an edge to survival. As a consequence, it had become policy to place a security guard at the entrance.

In the silence, he whispered a prayer for those no longer of this world, a prayer in native Danshi, that he had spoken over the burial of his Queen. It was a prayer for lost souls, a prayer for Illghazi, Natir's husband, a good being full of kindness towards his friends and his patients; a gentle being, with passion for life.

"Nisa al dora

Yor al manhata

Le fremni, Le hala

Norda ki ar, ki do, ki meni"

"So we pass

Embracing the sail

The sky, the fire.

Passion in life, Passion in death,

Passion above all."

Many of these beings had simply...faded away. Their passion subsumed with grief, engulfed with hatred, and devoured by madness. Others had merely given up. _Morbid thoughts..._. Nestor reached into his right breast pocket for a handkerchief, touching upon a fragment of parchment, brittle through exposure to recycled air, rather than yellow with age.

_Nestor, _

_ I know there's not much time left. Take care of him. Even though the people may not recognize it, he is by law, and when I die, the proper ruler of both Valdet and Danshitie. I know that he was meant to bring our peoples together, to make them work togetherwe cannot always be isolated and solitary in our matters. I believe that there is much we can give the galaxy, so I shall retain hope beyond my final dusk that this misstep is just a hiccup. _

_ When the time comes, you know where I'll be happy. Since losing his family and maintaining Valdet's borders without any guidance he found it easy to falter. While putting his faith in others, Tristan has never truly believed in himself. I tried, but there wasn't enough time to show him just how much I believe. He needs to be a shown a purpose beyond us so that he can truly see all the good that he can accomplish. I put my faith in him; I know that he can be successful. _

_ I put my faith in you. For all that you have done, and all that you shall do, I thank you. I shall sleep easy knowing that you are there protecting him. _

_E. _

For the thousandth time, he reread the message, hoping that she was happy at the final peace of their worlds, safe, for now, in the Outer Rim, beyond the reach of the Vong. Her faith had always been Nestor's strength, and now he wondered how long he should wait.

He had watched as Tristan and Keladry's relationship grew with each passing day, her expressions of love, a daily reminder of how far they had come, and his painful silence. Almost a year had passed and Tristan was still holding himself in check—loving the quiet woman from Coruscant, but not ready to commit.

Nestor patted his left interior pocket, checking for the other message, once again thinking of Elbereth's instructions before the bombing.

"_When you think he is ready to move on. I know he will hesitate, I know he will struggle. This is the only way I believe he will cross over the gilded line, and live fully." _

She had been sitting on the edge of the verandah, before she started to slip into her almost endless catatonic states. Her golden hair was limp, almost featherlike, and her eyes would never burn like the Danshitie violet again. Her words echoed in his ears.

_"Nestor, a man can change if he is forced to, when he realizes that he cannot move forward without acknowledging his faults. I know Tristan Romani, as if I have known him all my life. He will not move on until he knows that he is not betraying me..._

_He is young, he has a life to live. I want him to see beyond the cloudy skies and the war torn sorrows that have plagued his world. I want him to hear the patter of children's feet in a courtyard. It may be a life without me, but it will be a full one with a woman he loves, and one who loves him in return." _

Her hand had trembled as she turned to face Nestor, holding out the second letter between her bare sinew and bone fingers. And then she had dismissed him, allowing him to kiss her hand goodbye and then leaning forward to press her own lips to his temple. She had known what was to come.

How long should he wait? Nestor and Syla had in effect said their own vows, but Syla had decided to hold off the official ceremony until rejoining his family on Danshitie. She seemed to sense its import. But Tristan...

A gruff voice interrupted his musings. "Alluvia, move it. Shifts over, it's my turn. Interlopers be damned, Serge is here." The large man who helped load and unload the transport stomped towards Nestor.

Cracking a smile, he looked up to see his replacement, willing to accept whatever levity was possible. Waving, he made his way to the bulkhead shared with Tristan and Doctor Lind, not surprised to find Tristan on the edge of the bed marking up his datapad on his patients. He was nothing but meticulous.

Looking up as Nestor entered, Tristan mumbled a quick greeting before resuming his work. "Hello."

"Doctor," Nestor was firm.

Looking up again, Tristan was troubled by stern set and the intense glare of Nestor's expression. "Is something wrong?"

A softening, then again troubled. "No. Nothing is wrong. I..." Nestor had never been the most articulate man, he was one for action rather than talk. Pulling over a chair he settled in, leaning forward on his knees so that he was almost the same height as Tristan on the bed.

"I have to tell you something." He reached into his pockets and removed the two fragile letters. "Before the destruction of the palace, before Elbereth..." he appraised Tristan's reaction, knowing full well how far Tristan had come from that night on Tatooine. Nestor had not dared to mention her name himself. "Before Elbereth passed on...she called me to your chambers and handed me two letters."

Slowly, his heart beating quickly Tristan laid his data pad on the bed and sat up straighter.

"The first...were my instructions. To make sure that you stayed...safe...that she had faith that together everything would turn out well." Nestor's eyes glistened with emotion. "The second...the second she meant for you."

"For..me?" Tristan choked on the words. "I talked to her every day, why wouldn't she give it to me herself?"

Nestor shook his head vehemently, "It was not for you to read upon the moment of her death, or even in the months following. Rather, it was for when...for when..." He stuttered, sucked in some air, "for when you stood on a precipice, when you had the opportunity to move forward, but could not prevent yourself from looking back, from holding on to her." He held out the envelopes his hand shaking. "I think...that time is now." Carefully with deference, he placed them near Tristan's right hand.

"I will leave you, but there is more you need to know, so when you are ready I will be in the mess, awaiting your command." Standing quickly, he bowed—an action that he had long since ceased to perform, and practically ran out of the room.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_Some say that the Jedi do not dream...but what of those who cannot touch the Force? Is it possible to have a vision of someone long gone, or is it merely an echo of what your heart yearns for? _

_The dream was vivid. Last night, and nights past, he had been standing face to face with his queen, his wife. Neither spoke a word. _

_She was as she was on their wedding day, hair twirled around like a crown intertwined with diadems and pearls from the north __shore__ of __Danshitie__. Standing in a floor length rose dress, splashed with darts of white on an aubergene sheath overlay. _

_They had been standing at a crossroads, and he was grasping her hand, pulling her back to walk along his path, while she shook her head and tried to move towards a rolling mist. Alone. _

_He had railed, screamed, but somehow each step he took back, the slippery her hand became and she was able to move further away. Eventually, she stood a mere step before the mists that concealed her horizon. Holding her left hand, he watched as first her right, then the left slipped beneath the veil. Staring at him, her violet eyes sparkled with her own grief urging him back onto the path he had left behind, saying goodbye. _

_But Tristan refused to listen. _

_Her features grew fuzzy, but he still grasped her hand._

_Her eyes became pinpoints of light, but still he grasped her hand. _

_As he tried to push forward to join her through the fog, instead of pulling her out the fog turned to ice, her hand froze breaking into a thousand pieces and Tristan..._ woke up.

Remembering, Tristan now found himself averting his eyes from the chair Nestor had vacated to the letter lying next to him on the bed. Gently, he lovingly examined the parchments, recognizing at as Elbereth's favorite choice of correspondence. She used this paper, stronger than flimsy, as an illustration. Quickly, he scanned her words to Nestor, memorizing, drinking in her essence. Her faith had been his lifeline.

He moved on, to the message she had left for him. On the front, in faded brown—once dark black—ink was his name, curved and painstakingly written by a hand that...no longer listened to commands to hold steady. _Tristan_. The 'n' was lighter than the other letters and it was obvious that his name was the last thing she wrote, the effect of the tremors was clear.

Gulping down the sadness, Tristan flipped open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of writing parchment. Standing up, he moved towards the light in the corner, wanting to see every drop of ink, every miscurve, and every scratchout. This was...her last.

_T. _

_Dearest Tristan, _

_I am sitting at my desk, the one that Bran bought me when he thought I may still be of use to him. The one made of red al-ien wood from the preserve on Danshitie. Engraved in the wood is a carving of a blue Agnor, a copy off a sketch that you drew for me, in honor of our third meeting so long ago. _

_That tiny bird puffed up like a Sparkiet when wailing, roosting in the preserve where our love first blossomed, spreading her song at a time when the seasons changed, welcoming the cool nights signaling winter—and flight. _

_It is time, my love. It is time. _

_I know a part of you is offended that I was not brave enough to articulate these words—_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Shaking his head Tristan closed his eyes..._When were you not ever brave!_ Opening them again he read on.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_It is time, my love. It is time._

_I know a part of you is offended that I was not brave enough to articulate these words in person. However we are bound by the limits of time and space, and I know that my flesh and bone and weary heart shall not last for much longer. (If I am still alive, forgive me for my impertinence, but this appeared the only avenue left for my voice to travel, beyond my final rest.) _

_Tristan, you are an easy man to love, and I know that any woman who can see you for your faults, side by side with your strengths and still love you is worth all the stars in the sky. For you are more than what you seem to be, and I have always had faith that someday, you will finally recognize your own self-worth._

_You may be an easy man to love, but you are also stubborn one. Loving someone else does not mean that you have to forget me. I will always be there, within your heart, within your soul. I can never leave you, as you Tristan Romani shall always, and ever be a part of me._

_The time has come to take flight. _

_Reach down and hold onto our memories, grasp them and realize that your past is a part of you—but does not own you. Step forward, and move with the changing seasons. _

_We have a past, ashiela, we have a present, but we do not have a future._ _Loving her back, is not a betrayal. It is an acceptance that life goes on. Insahal nisal. Forgive yourself. _

_Let me go._

_Are ashiela I __Me.__ Al'orian Morodin denaitha. Tristan el ashiela denaitha. Se'la, S'ela. _

_O! beloved, love (mirror of the stars). Ancestors of the Al'orian Morodin. Keep Tristan and his love within your embrace. Safe. Protected._

_I will be with Salya, our child, waiting. I expect to wait a long time, and will wait to hear stories of your life, children and your wife to whom I will forever be indebted to for securing your happiness. _

_Zilsafer_

_Til__ Then._

_Elbereth__ Dono Morodin-Romani, _

_E. _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"AHHHH Choo."

"Bless you." Syla handed Natir a napkin, placing a small hand against her face. "Just a touch of fever. Make sure you eat your entire share. I can promise you more food later, but for now..." She watched as Keladry slid into the makeshift booth, scooping half her food into her friends dish.

Natir turned and began to protest, but Keladry just looked at her pointedly before turning back to her own food. Syla could tell she was worried again, unsure of how much room she should give Tristan, if at all. Scanning the line she spotted Nestor, who waded through the refugees for his own share of rice and synthmilk before making his way towards them.

His countenance was expectant, on edge, and as he slid in next to her, Syla placed a hand on his neck, trying to massage out the tension. As he quietly spooned the food into his mouth, their eyes met briefly, and she knew that he had finally talked to Tristan.

Wiping his mouth he murmured softly, making sure that Keladry and Natir were still conversing. "I have to tell him more...but I had to give him privacy to read..." He sighed and swallowed some milk, his lips puckering at the slightly sweet taste.

Keladry looked up, "Still not used to the taste Nestor?"

"No, not yet." He was solemn,

"Hopefully you'll get used to it...eventually." She was light, impish.

"You've been saying that for weeks. I don't think that it's a likely occurrence." He rolled his eyes before downing the rest of it, nearly spitting it out at Natir's sudden exclamation.

"Emperor's Black Bones! Sithspit! Shavit..." All three of the people at the table turned to face her, and her pale green skin tinged red. "I'm sorry...I just remembered where I saw..." Her face grew pale...and she started to cough.

Syla pushed over a glass of water, "Here."

Shaking her head she turned to Keladry, the rasping subsiding. Lowering her voice, she looked at her friend, eyes wide with fear. "I know who he is."

Quizzical, Kel raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Your...admirer." Natir grimaced.

Nestor stopped, a spoonful of rice hovering halfway to his mouth. "What's his name? Species, build?"

"I don't know his name, but he's on this transport, right now. Helping the ill. He...he's the same man that asked me about your mother...human." Natir stared at Keladry's loosely clasped hands lying on the table, looking up when Nestor pulled out a datapad.

"He has to be someone we know." He pulled up a roster of medical personnel.

"Tall, dark hair, dark eyes...and he was wearing a suit with a NREMAT patch." Natir supplied eagerly.

Surprised Syla glanced at them. "That could be more than just the medical personnel, he could be a volunteer."

Nestor tapped a button on his screen expanding the list. "Here, look at this and see if you can come up with a set of names. This transport is not that big, but we're about to land and we need to make sure that..." His brow furrowed, "actually, we can just wait until after Duro. If this guy is the real deal, he probably knows how hard it is to find someone in this warzone. He'll stay on board."

Keladry spoke up for the first time. "Why hasn't he contacted me? I haven't received a card in months. Not since...right before we left for this mission." Comprehension dawned, "I'll probably have one waiting when I get back."

"If he approached you on this transport, he's too easy to trace. Coruscant gives him ample cover." Syla wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Coward."

"We should call Tristan." Kel's voice was soft, strained, her lack of enthusiasm revealed just how much their relationship had suffered in the last few months. There was only so much one person could give before the love becomes bittersweet. There had to be love in return...

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, Nestor put the datapad down on the table. He reached for his commlink...and grimaced. Nestor had promised Tristan time...his thoughts were interrupted by the flashing of the proximity alarms.

"All personnel to docking stations, all personnel to docking stations." Nestor looked at the three women, and took their leave.

"I'll fill him in...you three concentrate on narrowing down the list on the datapad." He turned to Syla and kissed her forehead affectionately. Then looked at Keladry with hope. "Stay solid, Kel—maybe we can finally end this nightmare."

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"This is SELCORE ship 32523Captain Duchelle, ID transponder 45452 for drop off."

No answer. Frowning, the captain retransmitted the message, remembering that Duro had been having communication problems.

By the fourth time the receiver showed a spark of life, "Captain Duchelle, we just received word from Administrator Organa Solo—do you have room to take on more refugees?"

_More? _"No, we're here to offload. There's no room."

The slightly panicked voice, murmured to someone in the background. "I suggest you turn around and make a jump outsystem. We just received indications that the Vong are about to attack Duro."

Behind him, someone swore, and the captain waved his hand to shut them up.

"Copy. May the Force be with You." Twisting around Duchelle frowned at his crew—"Pass the word along, and calculate an emergency jump to Coruscant. Hopefully, SELCORE can tell us where to go from there. Make sure all personnel stand by, and maintain order. I do not want a panic on our hands."

xxx

Upon hearing the news, both Nestor and Tristan found themselves in a sudden whirlwind of preparations, helping the crew to make sure that the refugees were secured. Dr. Lind caught his shoulder and whirled him around—"Were you able to check on the aft deck, where the families with young children are being held?"

"Yes, we went through the procedure for bracing and battle attacks."

The ship suddenly shook...and the older man blanched, whispering.

"They're here."

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"They're here." Duchelle glanced at his local-space screen, widening the scope, "but they're not going to get us." He looked at his navigator.

"Calculations?"

"Done. We're set. Countdown—one minute."

The blips were moving closer, white on the screen as the ships internal IFF transponder had yet to identify them as friend or foe.

"Everyone get your crash webbings. Now."

59...58...57...

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Running down the hall Tristan ran into Nestor, and together they made their way to a doorframe, bracing them for the inevitable battle. At the capacity the shuttle was flying at all available crash webbings were being used. With a level of urgency, heightened by the impending danger Tristan caught his bodyguard's attention. Yelling over the panicked cries of beings, and the intense rattling as the ship's hyperdrive kicked into gear, he waved the letter. "What else did she say!"

Nestor blinked, not sure if this was the appropriate forum for this discussion before throwing caution to the wind. "She told me, that she wanted you to hear the patter of children's feet in a courtyard." His hesitation was clear.

"And?" Recognizing the need to still do his job, Tristan frantically searched the hallways, making sure that it was clear.

"And that you...that if you waste your life, living it alone asking what if's...you will be destroying her dreams for you." Noticing Tristan's wandering eyes, Nestor shouted over the cacophony of the hyperdrive motivators. "Look at me Tristan. She said that _It may be a life without me, but it will be a full one with a woman he loves, and one who loves him in return._"

Tristan's heart stopped, and a sob caught in his throat. Even before he could think, his eyes caught sight of a young female Chadra Fan standing, tears streaming down her face a few paces behind Nestor.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

...22, 21, 20, 19...18

"Captain we have coralskippers on our scopes."

"Just a few more moments...a few more moments..."

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Tristan tore himself away from the door, running at breakneck speed to the child. Scooping her into his arms he turned back towards Nestor and braced himself once again. Foolishly, the previous conversation running at lightspeed through his mind, he changed the subject.

"What were the other developments?"

"What!" The roar was overwhelming and the small child was whimpering, squirming in Tristan's arms.

"Other. Developments." Tristan tried to calm the child down, reminding Nestor of his message over the comm when the general alert had sounded.

Nestor's voice was tiny against the roaring din and he struggled to enunciate. "We found Kel's stalker. We. Know. Who. He. Is."

The ship jerked violently.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"Now!" Captain Duschelle grabbed the hyperspace lever and slumped back as the stars sped up into starlines.

xx

Nestor's last words were ringing in his ears, and Tristan gaped outwardly. In his arms, the child stopped squirming with the sudden silence, whimpers filling the vacuous stillness.

Taking advantage of his shock, the bodyguard appraised the younger man. "I..." He realized he was still shouting, and lowered his voice, "I do not know what you have decided, but she feels safe with you. Se'la, aur S'ela. She loves you—"

Tristan interrupted him, "Nestor, my friend, stop." Slowly he placed the little girl on the ground, and almost immediately she reached up for Tristan's hand, grasping his thumb while sucking on her own. Looking down briefly, he set his shoulders with conviction.

"I love her too."

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_We spent our time in hyperspace well, and by the time we reverted to real space above bustling we had identified my mother's killer. _

_His name was Donyer Camer, and I could place him at the scene of the crime. It was sickening actually, as we watched Leia Organa Solo step down from her presidency, he must have basked in the knowledge that in the next room, my mother was breathing her last. He was a hairsbreadth away, and I didn't have a clue._

_As predicted, he left me another letter, and somehow managed to slip away into the chaos that greeted us. We had waited this long...and knew that he would show up once again. He had an endgame, and we were determined to best him._

_We reached Coruscant, behind a faster fleet of ships. The news of Duro's fall was fresh on everyone's mind, and Coruscant was heavy with fear. This time, however, the Vong had given the peoples of the __New__Republic__ an outlet, and Tsavong Lah's pronouncement echoed in everyone's ears._

_"Give us your Jeedai, all of them without exception." _

_"Give me Jacen Solo, alive. So that I may give him to the Gods."_

_In return...purported peace. _

_It was the start of a dangerous time, and joys mingled with larger sorrows and indignations. A time when Tristan and I took a step into a larger world, together._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Coruscant**

**New Republic Mess Hall, adjacent Rogue Squadron hanger**

A halo of light streamed through the iridescent windows of the mess hall, spreading tiny rainbows of color throughout the room. An eclectic group of individuals gathered, pilots, techies, and a support staff, as well as a few civilians. Absently, Tristan took in a group of younger pilots whose hands were flying through the air, describing the engagement at Duro. Shaking their heads, some were smiling—while others, Tristan could recognize, were still wary glancing up through the skylights as if expecting a sudden attack. Closer to Tristan another group of pilots, easily identifiable by the Rogue Squadron moniker on their flight suits, played a sedate game of sabaac, not for money but for ration bars. The faces of Rogue Squadron were almost universally known, and Tristan recognized both Wes Janson and Wedge Antilles from an earlier meeting. The other two, Hobbie Klivian and the current commander, Gavin Darklighter were accompanied by a dark haired woman—and for all appearances, the winner of the potInyri Forge.

The corner of his lips twitched, amused.

The mess hall was a little crowded for his tastes, and Tristan had hoped for a more quiet arena...but events had precipitated to thwart his efforts. Immediately after arriving from Duro, the NREMAT team had been sent on two more missions before finally receiving a brief respite. Then, not long after arriving back on planet, Tristan and Keladry had been commed by the office of the Ho'Din physician Ism Oolos who had been working on the mysterious plague that had attacked so many prior to the Vong invasion. He had some questions about the research they had been doing for NREMAT and had set up an appointment for early this afternoon.

The hours after the appointment would have been the first free moments both doctors had had since Tristan's revelation to Nestor on the _Fatem_. Once again though, the best laid plans had fallen through.

As with many doctors, upon their arrival at the office, Dr.Oolos was running behind, and then to their chagrin called away on a medical emergency. At that point it was too late, and Tristan had been forced to cancel the reservations he had made at a nearby top 200 restaurant.

He reminded himself, _It__ does not matter where...but that I seize the moment. _The group was to ship out again within the next few weeks and Tristan did not want this moment to happen on a refugee ship, especially when it could have happened in a moment of relative calm. He tapped his foot semi-nervously as he waited for her return.

Next to him the sabaac game ended in a fit of laughter. Their conversation trickled over, despite hushed tones.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"So Commander, any word on new recruits?" Inyri Forge slid her winnings towards her side of the table. _Five ration bars, Whyrens reserve and two days leave...not bad._ Next to her Wes was humming a the theme song from _Ewoks_, while leaning back in his chair. Annoyed she glared and kicked him.

Amused, Gavin Darklighter shook his head, "We're set at nine slots...I don't know when we'll get a full squadron again."

"What about Lieutenant Solo?" Her voice was light, with forced casualness.

Wedge and Hobbie exchanged glances, the baby faced pilot reaching for the cards, absently shuffling the deck. They knew what Gavin had said to Jaina, he had expressed his regrets to them in private. She had been hurt, he had seen that in her eyes. The Jedi were losing support right and left, and bureaucracy was revealing weaknesses in strongholds of support.

"She has taken an extended leave of absence. To be with her family." Gavin's annoyance was reigned in, his anger now held in check. Still his former and current squadron mates saw the twitch in his cheek.

Inyri looked up from her counting. She hitched for a moment, then shook her head in disbelief. "Oh." Her eyes betrayed her dismay—Jaina Solo had been a true Rogue pilot, to lose someone over politics—in a squadron that had spurned politics since its latest inception...

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Tristan stopped listening, when a pair of arms snaked around his neck. He smiled. "Hey again."

Kissing the side of his cheek Keladry walked around and sat down. "Hey to you too, are you ready to eat?" She was starving.

Tristan shook his head, "Not quite yet." His fingers tapped the table nervously and he leaned forward, urging her closer. Kel pulled her chair in, supporting her chin with her elbows on the table.

"What's the conspiracy?" Her eyes twinkled with mirth. While the day had been frustrating, the ambient light and life in the mess hall along with the gorgeous day outside had lifted her spirits.

He leaned over the table, and kissed her softly. "Just wanted to do that," his lips moved up into a smile. "My love."

Her lips parted, her eyes widened reflecting the light so that they appeared like fine chocolate tinged with mint. "Oh." Then she grinned at him, her heart swelling. "It's about time."

Stunned, Tristan threw back his head and laughed. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket he took out a small box. He heard her inhale sharply, and when he looked up her eyes were wider than before.

Standing up he gently pulled Keladry away from their table and centered them in to the bright tableaux of light and color coming through the reinforced window. Her hand trembled slightly in his, and he gave it a squeeze. "I love you."

For the second time the softening of her expression, the brilliant upturn of her mouth surpassed the iridescent light waves surrounding them. They were standing in color, with indigo blues, irrepressible fresh grain gold, mint rush and a rush of red twirling and coalescing through the glass to become a visual representation of the feelings within his heart. Coughing slightly he bowed towards her, a small sign of deference to the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"Hey, don't we know them?" Wes brought his seat down to the ground with a resounding _thunk_ The other four sitting at the table with him turned to where he was pointing.

Wedge frowned, "I think we do." Standing in front of one of the big windows overlooking the pilots hanger, was a man and a woman. Both had dark hair, with the woman's pulled up into an elaborate curled coif above the nape of her neck. Dressed casually there was something about how close they were standing that suggested that something personal was passing between them.

"Oh! He's going to propose!" Inyri laughing voice was infectious and caused some of the other tables nearby to focus their attention.

Holding their collective breaths, they watched as he slowly bowed, revealing a small box in his right hand.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Straightening, Tristan kept his voice even, struggling not to stumble over his unrehearsed speech.

"Keladry Stanton, I was recently told that there was a woman who was willing to love me despite my faults, accepting me for who I am. For a long time, I took advantage of that love, unable to reciprocate."

You..." he exhaled, "You were able to ignore my tantrums, my anger—my desolation and see that I was more...and comfort me." A sparkle of blue winked near her nose, "An old friend reminded me that despite this war, despite the danger we constantly find ourselves in, the future still exists, my path in life was spread before me, waiting to be embraced. " His voice lowered as he admitted, "Opening my eyes, _again,_ I know that my past will always be a part of me, but that my future can only exist with you, in your arms.

Lightly tapping her nose, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I, Tristan Romani, stand here, to give my heart to you. I stand here to hold you, cherish you, protect you and yes, to finally admit...that I love you. I will love you forever, even when the color of the breaking dawn ceases to touch our brows."

He flattened out his clenched fist, the ring centered on his outstretched palm. "Marry me, Keladry Stanton. Marry me..."

She sniffled, shaped her hand so that the fingers were close together and then slowly spread them out so that the ring was clasped between their intertwined hands. Ignoring the greenish tinge to his hair, she laughed, and nodded. "Yes, Tristan. I will."

He slipped on the ring, basking in the warmth that surrounded them and embraced her.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"Hey, I know! Weren't they the couple at _The Worshyr Tree_ who helped us..." Wes exclaimed...

Wedge turned to him smiling, "You're right, Janson."

"Definitely a first for him." Inyri muttered under her breath.

For a moment the terror of the war was lifted as the man slipped the ring on her finger, hugging his new fiancé.

Unable to stop himself, Wes grinned and yelled, "Hey, kiss her already! We're not going to wait all day!"

The two broke out of their reverie, surprised that they had an audience. Looking at one another they smiled and they kissed, lightly at first and the deeper with passion.

Wedge and Gavin grinned, thinking of their respective wives, and slowly the mess hall returned to the myriad of conversations, lighter now than before.

This of course, given the nature of war, did not last long.

The holonetnews display above their heads caught Gavin's attention. Using the controls, he turned the volume up shushing everyone at the table.

_"Breaking news, Chief of State Borsk Fey'lya has issued an arrest warrant for Jedi Masters Luke and Mara Skywalker. The details of the warrant are not ready at this time, but in recent days, rumors of planetary security violations have been widespread. Additionally, with the blockade at Yavin 4 by the Yuuzhan Vong..." _The Androsian reporter tapped her earset.

_"This just in. On your screen is live footage from above Coruscant. It appears that the Jedi Masters choose to resist arrest...as you remember Luke Skywalker is the former Commander of Rogue Squadron, and the son of..." _

The rest of it was lost as Inyri and Gavin's beepers went off. Taking the message, Gavin, rather Commander Darklighter, glowered at the rest his companions. "They want us to go up there and stop the Skywalkers from leaving the system. They want Rogue Squadron to stop Luke Skywalker—the squadron he started..."

Inyri appraised the man who had grown up from the brash young kid of days past, confusion evident on her face. "Boss?" She looked at him with determined eyes.

He nodded sharply, "We have to go. This has to stop, _now._" They sped out of the mess hall towards their ships.

Wedge, Hobbie and Janson looked at one another aghast, and watched as Rogue Squadron zoomed up to the growing blockade. Holding their breaths through the tension that followed. It was clear that despite their orders, the squadron was going to side with the Jedi Masters.

_How far is Borsk willing to go to save his own skin? _Angrily Wedge glanced at two other men who had fought with Luke in the Rebellion, exchanging expressions of frustration.

Hobbie's face was dour. "This is an impossible situation. I don't know how Gavin is going get out of going rogue here."

Wes, trying to remain upbeat, and failing quipped. "Impossible is what Rogues do best."

Wedge shook his head, "Luke will talk him down, but this stress cannot be good for Mara." The three of them were part of the select group that knew of Mara Jade's pregnancy, and Wedge knew from experience how important it was to keep a pregnant woman calm. On the screen before them, the two ships identified by the reporter as the _Jade Shadow_ and Jaina Solo in an X-wing winked out, and the three men leaned back in relief.

Wes whistled. "I better be, thanking my lucky stars that they got away."

Wedge looked at him curiously. "Why?"

"She still hasn't gotten me back for that stunt with her ship. If Mara Jade didn't get away. I'm sure I would be in for a bunch of humiliation. I know from Lt. Kettch that something big was in the works." Janson began whistling again.

Wedge, stared, deadpan at his friend, "Janson..." He shook his head choosing not to comment. "You're going senile. Come on let's go check on the Rogues."

_And hope that they are not about to be court-martialed._

**End Post 9**

**Credit: **

First half: All the information about the Salliche Ag and the issues at Duro are based off of events in the NJO in the _Agents of Chaos_ Duology and _Balance Point._ Kel's letter we've seen before, as well as the prayer that Nestor says at the Morgue are both from "Changing of the Guard." Second half: Of course those of you who have read the NJO know that Luke does talk Gavin down, and thatas far as we knowthey don't get in trouble. We also know that Borsk's arresting them, has little to do with him not liking the Jedi but more with him trying to separate them from the government so that they have the ability to act without worrying about repercussions. (From _Rebirth_) Alright, so the lines in Keladry's after Duro are from _Balance Point_. The situation that occurs above Coruscant space, as explained at the top of the post is from _Rebirth_. Everything else is all me.


	15. Post 10

**A/N**

**Timeline:**

**First Half:** End of Star By Star and obviously you can tell when this is happening...with a smidgen during Rebel Dream/Rebel Stand

**Second Half: **During RD/RS

**Background for 10.2 **Borleais Occupation Day 37 in the books is a day when the Vong, in an effort to mess with the rebel force's mind disperse a bunch of prisoners into space, and a fleet of fighter pilots Jaina included go out and push them out of the way of the atmosphere until transports can get to them. The Vong have placed oxygen bags over their heads so they're alive, but the rest of their bodies are uncovered.

Day 39 is when the families of the Jediwhich includes a heartbreaking scene with Mara Jade and Jaina finally talking to her mother...say good bye to the young childrenthey are going to the Maw to be safe. That is the scene that Keladry is watching.

Both situations are from Rebel Stand

Oh and all along I have been working on the premise that there is no way civilians could know, aside from rumour of Nom Anor's existance post Rhomommool. In the NJO we hear about it b/c its from the top down  
the hero's POV. In this case I like to think that while in my world my OC's were working with Dr. Oolos, classified information such as Nom Anor's existance and reappearance in Balance Point has been kept hidden from the public at large. After Star By Star is when I see things like official breakdown of information disintegrating...

**

* * *

****Post 10**

_The galaxy spins and time whirls by…_

_Yavin IV has fallen—the Jedi hunted all over the galaxy by feral creatures called Voxyn. _

_Each day the holnetnews reports on the dead, and today was no different._

_No one knows how or when...just that Leia Organa Solo collapsed in a fit of despair on Coruscant...because her son was dead._

_Anakin Solo. Gone. _

_In his youth he had been a pillar of hope for those who still looked at the Jedi as their protectors. Now..._

_There have been ripples...and explosions... _

_Darkness is becoming stronger than whatever light we reflect back in opposition. _

_Married now for months, Tristan and I are content, as content as anyone can be fighting a war that does not seem to end. We continued to work with SELCORE escorting refugee's to supposed safe havens, coming back to Coruscant...pretending that the planet was safe. _

_No more..._

_Fey'lya...dead._

_The __New__Republic__ in shambles..._

_It's a game of survival..._

_I said that there would be a time when the hatred and anger secreted away by my husband would resurface, a time when he reached the breaking point. I said that I saw how hatred can make a good man choose evil; how I could just as easily fall prey to the dark. _

_Even for a moment...the dark side can consume. _

_xxxxxxxx_

**Coruscant**

Chaos.

He could feel the sweat pouring down his face as he raced to where the _Selanore_ was berthed. He could hear Syla's footsteps behind him and yelled, just missing a pile of rubble at the entrance to the bay. "Did you get a hold of them? Are they on their way?"

"Tristan said they'd meet us at the ship. He's bringing the others." They turned into the docking bay, just in time to see a group of ragtag humans standing in front of the onramp with a blowtorch.

_Stealing my ship!_ Pulling out his blaster, Nestor kept up his pace shooting above the head of one of the assailants. Seeing them, the group dispersed, leaving the man with the blowtorch staring at his hand with desperation. Gently pushing him out of the way Nestor glanced around making sure that the other malingerers had disappeared—a sudden clank in the next berth made him realize that the pirates had moved on. _We should stop them..._

His ears picked up a whistle, and instinctively flinched as an explosion rumbled through...

"DUCK!"

In the corner of his eye he saw Syla fall to the ground, covering her head. He had just enough time to grab the guy holding the torch and pull him to the ground. The building shook, and the noise in the next bay ceased.

_No time. No time._

Shrugging off the bags he carried, he frantically punching the code on access panel, the _Selanore_'s ramp began to creakingly come down. Not waiting for it to fully open he pulled himself onto the ramp, running straight to the cockpit. Muttering he sped through a rushed start up list, slapping switches and turning life-support dials to make sure they were functional. Gently, he coaxed the engines to life.

"Syla." He yelled back..."Syla...are they here yet?" No answer. Swearing under his breath, he slapped on the navicomputer, and nearly trampled Syla, who was dragging on the heavy bag he had left at end of the ramp.

Swinging it onto his shoulder, he apologized. "Sorry. Do you see them?"

She shook her head silently, still catching her breath from their mad dash from their apartment.

A sound at the front of the bay caught thier attention, and he sighed with relief. "Alluvia! We need some help!" It was Keladry, with Tristan and a gaggle of other sentients, among them a balding man with a mustache, and a stately looking woman with two children. From their disheveled appearance they had obviously been fighting against the crowds to get to the ship...it was a miracle that they even had gotten past the gates.

Looking at the balding man he did a double take, _Face Loran_, before shunting aside errant thoughts. "We have room for everyone. It'll be a bit cozy... but hopefully we'll be able to get off alive." Nestor reached for one of the bags that Keladry was carrying—taking note of Natir's hovering hand lending support.

Ushering everyone onto the ship, Nestor grabbed Tristan's shoulder keeping his voice low. "Doctor, we don't have enough fuel or food to get us very far. Just maybe somewhere close along the Perlemian..."

Tristan nodded. "Hapes, maybe?"

"Or Borleias?" Nestor rejoined.

The doctor's brow furrowed, "Wouldn't there be Vong there?"

"I don't know..." Nestor shook his head, and then gestured to the on ramp. "You better get on board. Is Kel all right?"

Tristan nodded, "She's still struggling with the morning sickness...but..." They turned as Natir and Syla bounded down the ramp.

Nair's face was sleek with perspiration. "Tristan, Kel needs you."

Tristan met Nestor's eyes one more time, and both men were filled with heady sense of déjà vu. Abruptly, Tristan turned away and scrambled up the ramp. Proof, once again that history does not repeat itself.

Nestor's eyes flitted to his fiancé, "Get on board Syla, I'm going to do a quick exterior check before we go." His voice was gruff, but soft. Briefly watching her retreating back, he mustered a modicum of patience, forcing himself to look over the ship, just to make sure the thugs had not done anything that would endanger them later. All of his senses were screaming to run, the entire planet was falling apart around them.

The sound of scuffling caused him to spin around, finally pinpointing the source. Bending over to look under the ship Nestor found himself face to face with the blowtorch wielder, who was holding out the instrument as a weapon.

Impulsively he barked, "Come on. We can take one more." On all fours the being crawled out, and Nestor realized that this man was a mere boy, no older than fourteen.

Looking him over, Nestor turned and moved towards the ramp, failing to realize that the boy was rooted to the spot. When he looked back, the boy quietly held out the torch as an offering and it took the elite fighter a second to realize that it was meant as payment for the ride. Striding backwards, he gave the boy a gentle nudge, "No charge," before practically shoving him up the on ramp.

Within moments, the _Selanore _was rising up through the debris laden planet and moving through the air. Inside, Tristan flicked on the transponder to a broad band frequency, trying to see if they needed permission to evacuate. "This is the _Selanore_, Independent Ship X25124, do you copy?"

A voice behind him interrupted him. "They're not going to answer. Everything has gone to hell in a hand basket." Tristan glanced back to see the bald guy who had introduced himself as Garik Loran, leaning against the doorframe to the cockpit.

"I figure."

Loran eyed the scopes, "We're about to break through the shields, or where the shields should be. Does this ship have any defenses?"

Nestor, who had been shifting power resources to the shields, nodded. "Yea, one turbolaser battery and a few...concussion bombs. It has been retrofitted with lasers, but you can only fire those from the cockpit." He turned and appraised the former star, "Can you shoot?"

Too late he remembered that the man used to be a part of one of Wedge Antilles' squadrons.

The man's lips broke into a wicked grin. "Can I shoot? Can a Ewok throw rocks?"

Nestor rolled his eyes, "Well then...get to it. Right, then left and then left again." The man moved away, and Nestor realized he may be able to help them..."Mr. Loran!"

Face turned around at the sound of his name, "Wherever you decide to fly will be fine. You had it right outside, aim for somewhere along the Perlemian, we can double back to Borleias from there."

Nestor blinked, dodging two smaller ships, and some burned out coralskippers, before glancing back quickly. "How'd you know?"

His eyes twinkled, despite the seriousness of the situation. "I'm a mind reader." Then he jogged back towards the turbolaser.

Tristan and Nestor looked at each other again.

Casually, Tristan spoke. "The Vong are ignoring most of the fleeing ships."

"Hm..."

"They probably realize that there is nowhere to go."

Neither of them spoke, unwilling to break the silence, but both jumped when the comm suddenly crackled to life. For a moment, the two froze, wondering if they had accidentally tuned to a military frequency.

Leia Solo's voice filled the ship, and Nestor quickly flipped a switch that had it broadcasting throughout the _Selanore_.

Her voice was strong, and commanding—and hopeful, even a she acknowledged her son Anakin's death.

Nestor's heart sank.

_"Soon, the enemy will be on our rooftops, in our homes, roaming the dark underlayers of our city. To those able to evacuate and to those trapped behind, I say the same thing I would tell my twins—were I able to reach them behind enemy lines: Keep fighting._

_This is not the end. Twice already, Jedi-led forces have decimated Yuuzhan Vong fleets, and we enter each battle with new weapons and better tactic. We have prevailed against ruthless enemies before, against Palpatine, against Thrawn, agains the Ssi-ruuk. This is a war we know how to win. Keep fighting until you can fight no longer, then exhaust the enemy chasing you, and turn and fight some more. Keep fighting. I promise you, we will prevail." _

The cockpit was silent, and Tristan's eyes closed. Outwardly he appeared to be saying a quick prayer. Inside, a switch had been flicked, and when he saw his reflection in the mirror he saw a stranger, one who merely _appeared_ calm. Enflamed, his anger and fear for Keladry and yet another unborn child was churning, and he quickly armed the lasers as the Yuuzhan Vong armada grew in their scopes.

Unaware, his own adrenaline surging, Nestor hit the communications console. "Everyone make sure you're braced and that all loose objects are secure, it's about to get bumpy." He reached over and secured his own webbing before pushing another button.

"Mr. Loran?"

"Face."

"Face. Lets get them."

xxxx

_When the alarm sounded, when we first realized that the Vong were going to succeed in taking Coruscant, no one moved. Tristan, Natir and I were in a meeting with some personnel from Dr. Oolos' office, trying to help decipher data on another pathogen that had been sweeping through the city. In between refugee stops, we had been hired to wade through the data, primarily due to Tristan's uncanny ability to pinpoint patterns. The offices were located next to an apartment complex, and almost twenty-five levels and fourteen blocks away from the shipyard where the Selanore had been docked. _

_Society was collapsing, and everywhere you could hear people scrambling to ships trying to gather as many refugee's as possible. Over the din though, we saw Face Loran, two young girls, and a woman who we later learned was Iella Wessiri __Antilles__ of Intelligence. He was yelling into a commlink, telling someone to take his ship and leave the planet without them. Hero's are always selfless, never thinking of personal safety—always putting the well being of others before themselves. _

_Without thinking, Tristan and I stopped in our tracks, and convinced the pair that we had room in our ship for all of them. We ran the entire way. _

_Once on the ship, the nausea resumed, and I spent the entire trip to Borleias, sleeping, trying to keep food down, trying to prevent miscarriage. My last memories of Coruscant are of a 'fresher bowl and tears as Leia Organa urged us to keep fighting. _

_By the time we arrived on Borleias, I had numbed the grief that accompanied Coruscant's fall, and my morning sickness distracted me, prevented me from noticing Tristan's odd behavior until it was almost too late. _

**

* * *

****Borleias Occupation Day 8**

Schooling her face, Keladry Stanton-Romani quietly made her way into the med center at the biotic factory on Borleias. Stoically ignoring vacuous sterile environment which was once again, shoring up for an attack, her eyes searched out her husband's profile. She didn't make it very far before the smell of fresh gauze and rubbing alcohol attacked her senses, causing her stomach to lurch.

By miracle, a warm arm pulled her over to one of the cots, pushing a small pail into her hands.

Kel pushed it away, shaking her head no, before leaning back against the soft linen. Breathing deeply, she, tried to regain some composure. A moment later, when she opened her eyes she found herself looking into the kindly face of Nasirn Tan, the kindly former assistant to Dr. Oolos, who was running the medical unit on Borleias. Like Dr. Oolos he was a Ho'Din, and very gifted in the medical field.

"I see it wasn't merely a flu virus." He was smiling.

Abashed, Kel smiled, "No...a little bit more than that."

"Are congratulations in order?" The green scales on his back rippled, while his eyes twinkled in mirth.

She smiled, "Yes, thank you. Have you seen my husband?"

Tan shook his head. "He was here an hour ago." He grew curious, "Is everything alright with him? He seems less...calm."

Keladry stiffened, surprised that someone not within their inner circle had noticed. Instead of answering she stared up at the ceiling tiles, releasing another breath in frustration. "He's been on edge lately. I'm convinced it has to do with my pregnancy. They day we evacuated, was when we realized what was going on."

She hesitated, "His last wife...she...miscarried, from what we believe is the same disease that Mara Jade Skywalker survived."

Tan's eyes widened slightly, catching the inference of the first wife's death, before cautiously asking. "And you believe that he is worried about your health?" He wanted to ask more about Dr. Romani's wife, but sensed it was a sensitive subject.

She shook her head, "That and the war...he worries about our safety." _It's more than that. I think he's trying to stop himself from repeating history, from letting his insecurities stand in the way of being excited about the future. He wouldn't be Tristan if he did not still worry. Letting his past go by marrying me, does not eradicate memories or emotions of how he reacted before. _

Somehow the doctor knew that there was more to it. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a tab. "Here, this is L-zat. It should help with the nausea."

Kel swallowed the tab then slowly sat up, feeling less lightheaded. "I should go find him."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

She nodded, "We're housed here in the biotics factory, in fact two doors down." Almost to the door she looked at the doctor curiously. "Why did you ask me about Tristan? Did something happen?"

Nasirin Tan's large eyes blinked slowly mulling over his words. "He snapped at a few techs, and then when one of our aides came in, he abruptly left."

Not trusting her voice, Keladry cleared her throat, looking around the bay. "What was the aid's name? "

"Donyer Camer," The Ho'Din looked closely at her, wondering if he should ask her to sit again. Dr. Stanton's face had grown pale.

Her response was sharp. "And did he see Tristan's reaction?" Her eyes flitted across the room, furtively.

"I don't think so," Nasirin blinked, "but he did ask about you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Borleias Occupation Day 37**

"Look at them,"

"That's incredible."

"Well they're not Jedi for nothing. Leave it to the Vong...despicable."

"Do you think they'll be able to save them?"

Ignoring the voices of the bystanders, Tristan tapped an earpiece. "Nestor, this is Tristan—I'm with the other medics, do you have a count?"

Through the crackling, Nestor's voice came back. "I have five, but Syla and the medic on board says that we have one deceased. There was some murmuring in the background. "Along with the other shuttles, it appears that there are a total of twenty-two. Hold on a second."

The medic's calm voice came over the comm., "They're all suffering from exposure, I have a Twi'lek with a broken arm, and a Rodian who suffering from a head wound."

Tristan relayed the message to the teams on the ground, then checked in with the other shuttles. When the four shuttles came to a soft but quick landing in the hanger bay, the teams went jumped into action.

Almost immediately, the medics and their volunteers began to transport the refugees off the ships, treating them for exposure, hooking the more serious ones to portable monitors to be transported to the bacta tanks and the 2-1B's. Tristan moved around, snapping off orders, while quickly setting the Twi'lek's arm. "Alright, move her back to the med-center."

His fists clenched as Donyer Camer grabbed the stretcher along with another aide. His chest tightened and he moved over to help the next patient. Placing the compress on the Rodian's head, he noticed his hand twitching and casually placed his right hand on top to still the movement. Of late, Tristan's anger was once again quick to rise, and the prior feelings and pressures of responsibility plagued him in his dreams.

The presence of his wife's stalker did nothing to quell the situation. In their presence the man was unobtrusive, pretending to not recognize any of them, despite his almost casual questions to others in the department. Occasionally Tristan would catch him watching Keladry work, his dark eyes penetrating and threatening. It took all Tristan's will power to not attack the man in fury.

All of their proof had been lost in the mad dash from Coruscant. No one could corroborate their story, and their patience—all the planning, was another casualty of the war. So they continued on...and once they realized he was on planet, they knew it would not be long before he had to make a move again. He still was unaware that his quarry could identify him.

Now in the medical center, Tristan moved between patients, monitoring their progress. For exposure and shock, the best thing that could be done was to stabilize temperatures, and other vital signs, before bacta. In the background he could hear some of the other doctors talking to each other, and silently he absorbed their observations, making sure to keep his mind on the task at hand.

"Ridiculous, lack of respect for life..."

"Waste...another one lost..."

"Use refugees and disease to their tactical advantage...enemies...the Vong emissary, Nom Anor, admitted to Mara Skywalker...at Duro"

Tristan flinched hearing Nom Anor's name. It had been three years since he had thought about that man and what he had done to his world. _Focus_. He began re-wrapping a broken ankle. Most of the physical injuries the refugees had sustained were when the fighter pilots had pushed the victims away from the planets atmosphere.

"...disease, they introduced it. Dr. Oolos, told me. Nom Anor introduced it before the invasion."

The scissors that Tristan had been holding clanked loudly to the floor and he found himself staring at the ankle, not knowing what to do next.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keladry had been rubbing the arms of a human woman trying to bring circulation back to her vessels, when she heard the commotion. In a surreal moment she knew before someone tapped her arm that it was Tristan.

Ignoring the whispers, she made sure someone took her place and then ducked around the curtained area where Tristan had been working. She had taken not more than two steps, when a loud crash led her toward the entrance to the ward.

A few feet away from a sedated Rodian, her husband was struggling against some medics, pushing through the crowd. At one point he swung around, and his rasping breath could be heard above the other medics still trying to maintain order. He looked directly at Dr. Tan and asked him, no demanded. "Is it true? Is it true?"

Her voice shaking, Keladry called out his name, and he seemed to hear, his head moving towards the sound. His actions were alarming enough, but...when his eyes met hers...she realized she was looking into the face of a man torn with madness, consumed with a level of hatred so deep...

His grey eyes, that had reminded her of the sky at first snowfall, were now the color of coal, unseeing, unfeeling. They passed through her, and somehow, he slipped out of the restraining arms and bolted out of the medical center.

Shoving through the shocked medical staff, Keladry passed quickly through the doors, only to find that he had already disappeared.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The words slammed into his brain, pounding, pounding. Repeating itself like a broken holorecording.

"Dr. Romani, are you alright?" Turning slowly, He turned to speaker, his mouth ashen, dry. _Vong. Nom Anor. Disease. _The world around him spun, and an uncontrollable feeling of rage swept across his vision. Everything in the room tilted. He was cognizant shoving past everyone in the room, of eyes staring and grappling for him. He sensed that he was a danger to his patients, and struggled against those that held him, concentrating on making it out into the hallway..._Vong. Nom Anor. Disease. _He heard Keladry's voice in the distance, but ignored it, the rage...the adrenaline...swept through his senses...

Pounding, Pounding. _Vong. Nom Anor. Disease.** Alive. **_

From somewhere within, his carefully guarded anger, his stored away his pain, his selfishness, awoke like a rancor coming out of hibernation. Ravenous, bloodthirsty. Like soot in a flame that burned all in his wake, his vision was tinged with the onyx and crimson of death. His fists were clenched, and his white lab coat flapped in the wind tearing through the hallways, trying to find a place where the anger could be expelled.

Then the voices started, and in his minds eye he saw Elbereth's violet eyes accusing, Iker's laugh, grating stabbing, crushing. Everything was different, everything he knew had changed...

Nothing was the same. The galaxy had conspired against him from the beginning.

Happiness was non existent, an extinguished flame overtaken by glacial winds.

Somehow outside, two paths appeared before him, just as in his dreams. His surroundings were unrecognizable, but he saw his wife, he saw _Keladry's_ ashen face dressed in Elbereth's red and silver...and she was walking away from him moving towards the icy wall that Elbereth had gone through. _NO!_

_NO! _The tempest grew in intensity.

Pounding, pounding. Through brush and trees, tripping over rocks and debris. Scratching, pain, pounding, pounding...pain. Iker's voice echoed in his head: _Fear and pain are a mark of a soldier, and your child will learn from your mistakes to be better, and greater. In fact you should transform the fear into a tool, for it is through fear and sometimes the pain of mistakes that one learns most appropriately._

His legs were leaden, and suddenly he stopped. His arm stiff, his body bruised, he saw sky then earth then sky then earth as the world spun around him.

His heart stopped and he fainted dead away.

**

* * *

****Borleias Occupation Day 39**

Looking at the crowd gathered next to the _Millennium Falcon_, where onlookers watched as General Antilles, the Skywalkers and other parents said goodbye to their children. Keladry felt her heart flutter. _Will my child never live to see her father again?_ _Where are you Tristan?_

In one of the booths above the landing pad, she tried to free herself of the morbid thoughts, turning back to Dr. Tan. "Tell me again, what you know about the disease, about Nom Anor."

The Ho'Din's guilty look re-formed, and he shuffled anxiously before replying. "Nom Anor did not die three years ago. In the last year he has been seen by three members of the Skywalkero-Solo clan. On Duro, he told Mara Jade Skywalker, under the alias Dr. Cree'Ar that he had infected her on Monor II, that the disease was his weapon to weaken the republic before the Vong invaded." He grimaced, "Most of the higher-ups knew about it, though I'm not sure how you didn't find out with all the time you spent on Coruscant with Dr. Oolos."

Keladry sat back down, her mind racing. "Maybe they thought we knew, that someone had told us. We had been jumping between refugee ships and Coruscant for over two years. I'm sure some of this information was classified, and we were never high enough..." She looked up, "And Tristan heard that? Amidst the chaos?"

"I assume that is what he was asking about, but I do not know why this information had such an effect on him."

Keladry started, "No—you couldn't know. " She took a deep breath and gave him the short life history of Tristan Romani and his world. "He has always been plagued with insecurities, trying to believe that there was nothing he could have done to save Elbereth, or his first child. In an effort to make her dream come true, to bring their planets to peace, he raced after the malefactor, the insurgent that had started it all. He sought vengeance and undeniable proof that they had been manipulated. Iker Rafagr, was his only hope, to bring justice, to make Elbereth's death have some meaning."

"When we thought Nom Anor—Iker Rafagr was dead, when Tristan thought he was dead for the second time, the last time, I believed he was relieved of his burden, freeing him to live again. Even learning that Elbereth had contracted the illness that so many others had, seemed to show him that there was nothing he could have done, and he accepted it." She continued sadness tinged with bitterness, "instead with no place to go, it looks like the darkness stayed within him, taunting him."

She looked up at the doctor, who had volunteered to stay with her while Syla, Nestor and Natir searched for Tristan. "Something changed. The fall of Coruscant, the war destroying more constants, maybe he felt that he had not fought hard enough, and layered subconscious guilt on top of everything else. Which is why he was angry, tense frustrated—especially with my mother's murderer around." She looked at the doctor apologetically; they had been forced to come clean with him, when they realized that the man worked in the med ward. Measures had been made to limit his access to patients, and he was being monitored. "I think he may fear losing me to violence as well."

Keladry stared at her hands, "Maybe the connection between this war, his home planet's destruction and his wife's illness was too much for him to bear. He lost his family at a young age, his sister...twice. His first wife, his child...and now to realize that his planet's destruction and Elbereth and Salya's death could have been prevented? To find out that they were mere pawns in the Vong's plan for this galaxy?" Her arms snaked around herself, and she shuddered as a chill overtook her body. "I have a bad feeling about this, Doctor Tan...I have a bad feeling."

All of a sudden, the door to the room slammed open and the blue stun beams of a blaster slammed into Dr. Tan's upper arms. A moment later, Donyer Camer, his maniacal expression mixed with a level of glee stepped into the room. In an instinctive gesture Keladry wrapped her arms around her midsection, somehow not surprised that the man that had tortured her for over six years, through eight planetary systems chose now to make his move.

When he looked at her, no, looked through her, she was afraid he was going to kill her right away. Instead he stepped closer, not even acknowledging her presence, and began to walk around her. His apologetic look was all she saw before a sharp pain hit her skull and her world went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Is he going to be all right?" Nestor asked quietly, looking at his friend lying just beyond the borders of the jungle floor.

The medical technician looked up at the tall man, taking in his fearful features. "I think so, at least physically. Something must have happened to cause him to faint away for nearly two days."

Syla's voice was suspicious, "Look, he's waking up." Tristan's arms had twitched, just for a moment.

_Bzz. Bzz. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Their voices bounced around his head, and Tristan came to, his entire body aching. _What happened? How long has it been? What is that buzzing noise?_ His eyes seemed to be closed, and refused to open.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Bzzz. Bzz. _

"Mr. Alluvia, This is Doctor Tan." The man's groggy voice came through the commlink.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

And he remembered. _Nom Anor was a Yuuzhan Vong. Nom Anor infected Elbereth with the disease. Nom Anor is still alive. Nom Anor destroyed everything..._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nestor looked at Syla with fear. "What's wrong?"

"Camer, he came. Took Doctor Stanton."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tristan's eyes snapped open. _Camer has Keladry_.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Shavit." Nestor's swear echoed through the trees. "Do we know where?"

"Someone saw him dragging her into his bunk. The door's locked, reinforced, but we can hear both of them inside, alive."

There was a rustle deep in the Jungle and the trio standing froze.

Finally the medic turned to the pair. "We have to get out of here, there may be Vong." He quickly packed up his equipment, and stood up from his kneeling position.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Nom Anor took Elbereth. Nom Anor took Salya. Camer took Keladry. _

_Camer is Nom Anor. _

_Camer is Iker Rafagr._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Nestor," Syla's voice trembled, and Nestor found himself looking at Tristan's face.

His eyes were open, pupils wide, they were bloodshot rivulets of veins coming together at the center of his eyes.

His lips were moving.

Dropping to his knees, Nestor leaned in to hear what he was saying. Tristan's hand shot up and Nestor twisted away reaching to hold the man down, grasping only air.

With a burst of speed, without looking back, Tristan raced back towards the medical ward.

Nestor stood up quickly and began running—he knew exactly where Tristan was going, and he was afraid of what was going to happen if they didn't stop him.

Echoing through his head were the words that Tristan had been mumbling. _Camer is Iker Rafagr. Iker must die. Camer is Iker Rafagr. Iker must die. _

* * *

"Let me go? Please?"

Keladry was frightened. Not for herself, but for her child. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she looked at the man sitting next to her on the bed. It was as if he didn't hear her.

"And then, you went to the park. And you smiled at me—and I knew that somehow we were meant to be together." He laughed gleefully, waving the blaster around, in the process his finger slipped and the blaster, now set to kill, shot out a red beam melting the synthetic dresser in the corner.

Keladry jumped, trying to stay calm, trying to not let the stress take a toll that would be dangerous to her child. She shivered uncontrollably.

A noise outside the door turned her head, and she whimpered.

And then a miracle, she heard his voice. Calling through the metal doorway, providing her strength. "Keladry, it's Tristan. Stay calm. Everything is going to be fine. I love you, I promise. Stay strong."

"LOOK AT ME!" Donyer's voice rose over the din, and hardened. "You didn't love me after all...I was going to protect you, and you chose him—who you hated. He was always whining, mewling, and you chose him. YOU CHOSE HIM."

He dropped out of the chair, crawling over to her, begging, and she shrank away, moving into the corner of the bed. "Why? "Why did you choose him?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was running again, but something was happening. Instead of his anger growing with each movement, it was fading away. Instead it was being replaced with fear, with love, with desperation to save his wife and child.

He had changed, he had moved on. New information of events long past could not dictate his actions. In the light of the day, the oxygen flowing from through his veins, his head no longer pounding, the mantra from the forest faded away...Camer was not Iker Rafagr, Camer was a sociopath not related to the war. _I can't be too late._

Turning the corner, he almost ran into a small group of personnel standing outside the door. He pushed his way through, aware of the looks that he was being given, his disheveled state made him look like death walking. Reaching the door he faced Doctor Tan whose surprised expression was mixed with sorrow. "Is she in there?" The doctor nodded and then tried to stop him as he called through the door.

Softly, knowing that she was probably frightened, needing strength, he summoned as much as he could and projected it into his voice. He had walked away from her, and left her unprotected—he had to make sure he was there for her now. "Keladry...it's Tristan. Everything is going to be fine..." He was rambling, and had finished telling her he loved her, when Camer's raised words traveled through the reinforced metal door. Taking advantage of the situation, the technician leaned over to quietly fiddle with the lock.

"LOOK AT ME!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Why? Why did you choose him?" His plaintive plea shocked Keladry into action. _Maybe if I play along...maybe..._

She was soft, her voice lilting in the way she hated; it showed her fear. "I did not choose him. I...choose you." And then she looked up and really _looked_ at Donyer Camer for the first time.

His eyes were deeply emotive, the color of honey and chocolate depending on the light. His hair, was brown but flicked with strands of pearly white, a weak chin hidden by a light fuzz of sandy colored hair. He was wearing a medic volunteer uniform, and gone were the old fine clothes they had seen on the _Fatem_. In there place were dark slacks, an equally threadbare dark shirt, and a NREMAT patch.

His eyes were hard, they were disturbed, they were pained.

Quietly, he reached out for her, and she took a leap of faith to protect her child...and hugged him back. She pressed her lips together to stop from screaming in fright, but it was too much, and without her permission a small cry escaped.

His grip tightened. She had doomed them both.

A new voice, Tristan's voice._ It's too late._

"Let her go."

_Click. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was too quiet. Something was going on, and everyone outside the corridor was waiting with bated breath. Anguished, but steady Tristan turned to Nestor who had slipped to the front. "Are you all right, your highness?" In his nervousness, the former bodyguard had forgotten Tristan's almost ancient orders.

His heart no longer tightened at the title, knowing that he may hold it but that it was irrelevant, his world was a monarchy no more. Silently, his eyes trained on the lock technician, Tristan nodded. He was serene, he was at peace. He knew what had to be done.

From the other side, a small cry was heard just as the technician stood up, his hands molded, thumbs up. Slowly, all eyes turned to Tristan.

He held out his hand and Nestor, with great care, slipped Tristan his blaster. Setting the gun to stun the doctor took a deep breath and quietly, tapped the button, waiting as door slid open.

His hand steady, his eyes clear he pointed the blaster at Donyer Camer's head. As his arm swung up without hesitation, Elbereth's words in the letter to Nestor flitted across his mind.

_While putting his faith in others, Tristan has never truly believed in himself. I tried, but there wasn't enough time to show him just how much I believe. He needs to be a shown a purpose beyond us so that he can truly see all the good that he can accomplish. I put my faith in him; I know that he can be successful._

_He needs to be shown a purpose beyond us so that he can truly see all the good that he can accomplish. _

_A purpose beyond us..._

And quite simply, he knew what that purpose was. His cause, his purpose, was standing in front of him.

Love.

Slowly he raised the blaster and held it at Donyer Camer's head. "Let her go."

_Click._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He smiled, feeling her warmth in his arms. How comfortable she was with him. _Maybe she did choose me? _

It was a mere moment, but her cry destroyed his last hope. It was all a lie.

His grip tightening he held her closer, hearing the whisper of the doorway as her husband entered.

It could only be Tristan Romani, her husband. The floor creaked.

"Let her go."

_Click. _

Looking up at the sound of the door closing, Donyer smiled to himself, raised the gun and squeezed the trigger.

**End Post 10**

**Credit:** The speech Leia gave From _Star by Star_. The situation with Loran and Iella I pulled from information in RD/RS, and created the situation on my own, b/c they never really explained how they got off Coruscant aside from the fact that Face helped. Oh yeah, Loran an Iella, not my characters...(duh)

In the second half, situational things are from RD/RS...oh and the words that Iker Rafagar told him are from _Changing of the Guard_

Everything else is mine..


	16. Post 11

**A/n**

**To all my lurking readers...sorry this is late, hopefully this second to last post will convince you to review! I went out of town for the weekend, and couldn't get it ready until now. **

**Timing****  
**Middle of Destiny's Way--the events right before Jacen steps onto Mon Cal soil with Luke and Mara (check out the credits at the end for where things are directly from DW)

The TK/J scene takes place during the reception following the Jedi Knighting Ceremony...after the conversation with Jaina regarding Danni Quee (aka she asks him if anything is going on between them, and he denys it)

The last section takes place after the battle of Ebaq 9. 

**Post 11**

_The galaxy spins and time whirls by…_

_That day, that horrible, horrible day.__ Donyer Camer killed himself. _

_I survived. _

_My child survived._

_It is not possible to delve into the mind of a sociopath. It is not possible to ever really understand what was going through his mind. To have regrets, now, would be fruitless, because in a way, this twisted game pushed me into Tristan's arms, and gave me the life that I cherish. _

_Donyer__ Camer killed himself, and Tristan Romani came into his own. During those two days of unconsciousness, when his barriers were down, all the blackness, all the evil bled out onto the jungle floor, leaving him forever._

_Not to say that there weren't scars, but those were the lessons learnt as part of another larger, important step to creating our life together. _

_In racing to save me he realized that Nom Anor was part of a larger evil, an enemy that quite frankly was not his to fight. In saving us, he realized his limits and fought for what was truly important._

_Then, quite simply, life went on. _

_It was not long before we were on the run again, Borleias fell but the Vong were weakening. We found ourselves on Mon Calamari helping the refugees...mere observers to the election of Cal Omas and much, much more. _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Mon Calamari**

Her feet hurt, her back ached, two sensations not wholly unexpected as she was within a month of her due date. Each step was agony, but the thought of going back to their apartments under the water was worse. Suffocating from inactivity, Keladry blinked back her tears of frustration, tilting her head to take in her husband who walked beside her.

Tristan looked forward, deep in serenity contemplating their surroundings or perhaps their coming child, his furrowed forehead wrinkled with curiosity.

Thinking back to a few months ago Kel released a small sigh..._How close did I come to losing him?_ After Camer's death, Tristan had been her rock through the panic attacks, nightmares, and pregnancy induced mood swings. As they scrambled from Borleias, his faith had never wavered, he knew, somehow that they would survive.

Something had happened to him when he had disappeared those two days, something profound. He was at peace with himself and the world—confident and now in charge of one of the medical units based on Mon Cal. Kel chose not to pressure him for information, knowing that, with time, he would speak of it on his own.

As they strolled quietly along the Fleet Command annex concourse, her hazel eyes took in the upper limits of the Mon Calamari enclosed dome grateful to be standing on her own two feet. While she was patient in asking Tristan for information regarding that time, she did, however, have one small request. Unconsciously, she sighed again, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized tunic.

"Do you want to sit down?" There was a slight pressure at her elbow, and Keladry looked to see them near a set of benches meant as a waiting area for officers killing time before having to ship out. Tristan's eyes looked at her, mildly concerned, taking her sigh as a sign of exhaustion.

She shook her head, "No, lets keep walking to the officer's club at the end and we can sit on our way back." Above them a sleek consular ship was moving toward a docking port, maneuvering in a picture of perfect agility and grace. Her eyes flitted between glancing at the ship's progress and her husband's face, biting her lip, unsure of how to phrase her question.

They had made it back to the benches, placed next to a small, landscaped tree with orange blossoms when Tristan glanced at her a wordless smile touching his lips. "Kel, I know something is bothering you. What is it?"

She winced at the soreness in her calves, before letting the words tumble out. "I was wondering...if I could read Elbereth's letters."

Tristan arched an eyebrow, before silently pulling out the two creased pieces of parchment. He held them, silent, before placing them on her belly where her hands were clasped. Scooting closer she laid her head on his shoulder, allowing his left arm to cradle her shoulders as she unfolded the first.

"Keladry, you know you have nothing to worry about, right?"

She met his eyes, before accepting the offered kiss. "I know. " Her gaze returned to the paper, her regular breathing filling the silence.

Tristan kept his gaze away from the words on the paper, choosing to examine Keladry's fingers instead. His left arm played with the hair on her neck, shorter than her longer tresses of the past few years. His lips twitched at that memory, remembering how he had come home to find Natir carefully snipping away, an event explained away as necessary for her sanity. He knew that it had been a decision dictated by the sudden temperature spike in the apartments, a thermometer adjustment made by his wife when she had felt cold the night before. He missed her long hair, but found the shorter curls framing her face on a frequent basis to be just as alluring.

He felt a small tremble in her shoulders, sensing that she had moved on to Elbereth's letter to him. She sniffled quietly, and then quietly refolded the letters slipping them into his inner-right jacket pocket before resting her hand over his heart. She opened her mouth to speak when a sudden commotion near the officer's club caused her to raise her head, using her hand to wipe away loose tears.

"...It's Senator Sneakaway! And Senator Scramblefree!" Together the pair's eyes took in a Phindian in a Defense Force uniform moving towards the two consulars who had just disembarked from their ship at the end of the concourse. Troubled, Tristan and Keladry listened to the accusations, disgusted at the fact that these two beings had rushed away from Coruscant with such a lack of regard for those who would perish. The obviously drunk officer gestured back to the officer's club, her voice echoing down the wide space. She loudly urged the two senators to vote for the fleet appropriations bill, proclaiming in what Tristan ascertained was mutinous, "If you don't _give_ us the money...we'll _take_ it. After all, we've got the guns, and we already _know_ how brave you are around guns, don't we?"

Keladry elbowed Tristan in the side, and he absently helped her sit up, watching the rest of the altercation, while worriedly glancing around the rest of the concourse and up at the mezzanine where a hooded couple stood. "Trist...look it's the Skywalkers."

Tristan followed her eyes, recognizing Mara Jade Skywalker's signature red hair. He thought back to the holodisc describing the events on Valdet and Danshitie, of the Jedi Master's role in bringing stability back to his worlds. _I owe her a measure of thanks._ Tightening his grip on his wife's shoulders they were quiet as the applause from the officer's club gave way to a gentle rumbling.

"Dangerous thoughts." Keladry whispered matter of factly.

Nodding he took his eyes off the Jedi releasing a deep breath. "We'll see. If Cal Omas wins the election..." he trailed off. "Otherwise, we're in trouble." His words spiked another thought. _When did I start identifying myself as part of the __New__Republic_It was a decision he didn't remember making, and he wondered if that would change once he returned...

Returned home. Tristan had not consciously thought about returning to Valdet, believing in his heart that it was a closed door. Now though...things were different, it seemed almost within the realm of possibility that after the war he _could_ go home. When had the change happened?

"It was the turning point."

"What was?" Her voice was light, almost returning to a level of relaxation.

Tristan didn't realize he had spoken the words aloud. Twisting slightly, he found himself staring at his wife's eyes. "When I was in the woods, unconscious, that was when everything changed for me." Her eyes grew wider, and he realized that she had been stopping herself from pushing him about those days. Tapping her lightly under the chin, he went on wonderingly. "I don't know what happened Kel. I was unconscious. I mean I remember the chaos, the intense burning anger that arrested me as I ran from the med center. I remember realizing that I had run outside and into the jungle and that a sort of bleakness and blackness had taken over my senses.

I think my heart stopped. I think I...died." Her hand twitched, and he was quick to reassure, "I had myself checked out quietly afterwards and was assured that everything was alright, but..."

He gazed out at the opposite end of the long, light filled space. "I somehow found myself in limbo...with a seemingly endless amount of time to calm myself down, to think of what was left for me. I was unconscious to the world, but my mind kept moving." Tristan's grey eyes blinked. "I realized that while Iker Rafagr and Nom Anor were one and the same, that Elbereth died as part of the Vong scheme to take over the galaxy, it was not my personal fight. There were bigger things at stake then my vengeance, and that there were others more equipped—perhaps destined to fight the greater fight." His eyes flitted to where Mara and Luke Skywalker had been standing. "I found that if I could not accept responsibility for things I could control I would spiral into an unending descent. I would be the cause of our ruin, and would live in effect, a living death." Tristan turned further so that he was facing her directly, "I understood what Elbereth was trying to give me, by writing those words, urging me to let her go. She was giving me a second chance, with you."

He closed his eyes remembering. "When I woke up, regained awareness, there was a residue of bitterness, and I remember hearing Nestor's words saying that you were captured." Looking down at his hands he shivered, "All I could think of was my behavior when Elbereth told me of her pregnancy. How I ignored her instead of giving her the support she needed. I am ashamed to think of who I was of how alone I left her and how we were deprived of weeks that may have saved her life. Hearing those words again, hearing of how my actions and my obsessions left someone I loved vulnerable and in danger, I knew that there were more important things in my life then vengeance. More important things than hate, fear and anger." He cupped her face in his hands, forehead touching forehead.

Keladry bit her lip, tears welling up "Shavit, not again." She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Your wife, was a beautiful woman Tris, and I know how much you miss her." Her face contorted into a blissful smile, and she reaching for Tristan's hand placing it where she had just felt their child kick. "Look Tristan. She's here, everything she dreamed for you, is here. Our daughter, Elbereth is here."

His expression grew quizzical, "Elbereth?"

Keladry nodded, no longer reticent about her wish. "I want to name our child Elbereth, after a woman who saved our family, and brought you hope."

Speechless, Tristan gathered her up into his arms, his heart bursting. With infinite tenderness he slid to his feet, supporting her as she struggled to stand. He was hoarse as he whispered, "Thank you." Dipping his head gently kissing her face, before pressing his lips to hers. As they embraced again, Keladry on her tiptoes, she took in the beauty of the stars above them, bursting in fireworks of brilliance in a world gone mad.

As they left the concourse, taking the lift to the Mezzanine level, they found themselves paces behind Mara and Luke Skywalker, a toddling feather like creature and...

"It's Jacen Solo." Keladry whispered, careful to keep her voice low.

Tristan looked closer, surprised, wincing as Keladry squeezed his forearm, her expression one of excitement and joy. "Kel...?"

She whispered, just as low, but filled with an unknown magnitude of sparkling, gleaming and endless light. "Little hopes, little joys." Keladry looked at her husband and smiled.

"We will survive this war...I can feel it within my heart. This _is_ the turning point."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**After the Jedi Knighting Ceremony**

**Mon Calamari**

She stood away from the rest of the party, her bodyguards lurking nearby, hidden in shadow, perhaps to give her a semblance of privacy. As the Queen of 63 worlds it would not be long before one of the new senatorial candidates came to lobby for her attention.

At the moment, she would accept some peace, to reflect, to accept the shifting tides of Galinore and the fact that she was now a Jedi Knight.

_Yours is perhaps the most difficult task of all. The path of a queen is different from that of a Jedi. Your duty as queen of Hapes will inevitably come into conflict with the simpler values of the Jedi. I don't tell you to choose one path over another. I only hope that you choose with your heart, and choose wisely._

Master Skywalker's words had asked her to choose with her heart. For Tenel Ka, in this moment in time, she knew that her heart wanted to choose a path that could never be. Eyeing the drink distastefully, she took another sip, taking care to scan the room for individuals that she needed to be wary of.

Or rather, the one that she had been desperately avoiding.

Jacen Solo.

His death had hurt, had dug into through the leather armor of her Dathomir heritage, through the walls that she had carefully built to survive the mission to Myrkr. Like claws slashing through meat, he had disappeared from her heart, shredded in coupled grief, bits and pieces alluding to memories of a better time. As a result, watching his sister fall and return from the dark side, Tenel Ka had found a new life, a new love in the people of the heritage she had previously disdained.

But he was alive. _Alive_, and had been for quite some time. In her private quarters she had felt his return, sobbing with relief before donning the glittering and sleek attire of a Hapan queen. She had become the golden warrior, the royal to Jaina's goddess—both masks that they had been forced to wear in the name of war.

Reigning in her emotions she found herself seeking his presence, finding him standing next to that Fosh Jedi, Vergere. His captor, his tormentor...his friend.

_Tenel__ Ka?_

She would not hide, she had nothing to be ashamed of. He was one of her best friends, and why should that change even though she wished for more? Using her hand she gestured for the guards to stay in their places, raising her chin proudly and approached him. By the time she reached him, the Old Republic Jedi had disappeared.

She broke the silence. "Friend Jacen."

"Tenel Ka, congratulations." His manner was easy, and he raised a drink in toast.

She answered back, self conscious—"And to you. I..." She trudged on. "I am pleased to see you well." _Of all the Dathomir suns, maybe Jaina was right--you have the emotional depth of a ronto. _There were too many people, people who would talk. Talk unnecessarily, of course.

Jacen eyed her curiously before draining his drink and handing it to a passing droid. "I feel good." A memory flashed through his mind, before the capture on Myrkr of Tenel Ka's bruised face raised, waiting for something...waiting for a kiss. He frowned, disconcerted, recalling his recent conversation with Jaina about Danni Quee. _Blast!_

He gazed at his feet, reminiscent of the old Jacen, and then looked up at the red curls framing his friends face. Looking over his shoulder she smiled sadly, asking quickly, "Jacen, do you want to hear a joke?"

He shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "That's my line," he chided.

Almost at ease she tipped her head graciously, "I know. I missed it." _There._

He could feel the annoyance rising from her senses, before she cut it off and straightened—returning to her royal bearing. He turned as a pair approached them, two senators from the Elrood sector.

"Your Royal Highness...we would like to congratulate you on..." Tenel Ka tuned them out momentarily, sliding her eyes towards Jacen in desperation. She missed running free...but change had come and she accepted it for what it was.

Returning to the present, she answered, "Thank you, kind sirs." The beings moved away, and as Jacen opened his mouth one of her bodyguards gently tapped her shoulder.

Turning, Tenel Ka tried not to glare and failed. "Yes?"

"Queen Mother, your father wishes to speak with you." _Father, allow me this one moment of bliss._ If it was not important, he would not have called. Turning to Jacen to say goodbye, and found him staring at a blond figure, whom she recognized as Danni Quee, the scientist. _Ah. Ah Ha._ Her heart had already shattered, the fragments reforming to become Tenel Ka, Queen Mother—but fragile as it was, it could not break again.

She held herself too close for that to happen. Regaining her bearings she placed her hand on his arm before pulling Jacen into a hug.

"Why did the Ewok cross the road?"

His eyes twinkled at her, filled with mirth. "Why, your highness?"

"Threepio was there." She shrugged, acknowledging that the joke was not quite up to par with Jacen's.

He laughed, a short bark that made her spirits fly.

"May the Force be with You, Jacen Solo. Remember me sometime." She turned and marched away, determined to have the last word.

Jacen watched her retreating back and murmured to himself. "May the Force Be With you too, my friend. May the Force be with you too." Reaching out he sent her a non-verbal message with his support. _I missed you too._ She paused, and her back straightened almost imperceptibly, spirits brightening.

He couldn't tell from where he was standing, but Tenel Ka was smiling. _Fact._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**That Same Evening**

Tristan paced outside the med center glancing every five minutes at the sliding door to one of the larger medical bays on Mon Cal. Pausing he shot an jittery glance to Nestor, "It's been longer than five minutes. Do you think something is wrong?" He shoved his hands into his medical coat resumed to carve out a path.

Gliding out of one of the egg shaped seats by a window, Nestor stood in front of his friend, forcing him to stop. "Hey, calm down. I was like this when I heard Isa was going into labor, and do you know what a wise woman told me?"

Nonplussed, Tristan resumed his anxious fidgeting by slapping his hand against his thigh. "No, what?"

Nestor's head dropped, chagrined. "I don't actually remember, I was too busy thinking about my daughter and her son and how much I wanted to be on Danshitie instead of Valdet." He grinned, "I got you to stop pacing didn't I?"

Tristan's fist came flying through the air, in mock revenge. He was smiling too.

Peering into the shorter man's face, Nestor laid his hands on his shoulder. "You can do this Doctor. Just breathe. Breathe."

Tristan exhaled, "Nestor, why did you bother?"

"Huh?" Nestor straightened to his full height, confused.

"Why did you bother staying with me? It must have been awful being with a man who barely acknowledged your presence, leaving your daughter your grandson behind for an open ended amount of time." He winced, "I'm pretty sure that I never once asked you about your family about Isabelita, Iralian and Alden."

Nestor's face could have been chiseled in stone, as if he was insulted that Tristan was questioning his duty. A split second later, the façade collapsed, breaking into a grim smile. "I don't suppose telling you that I was bound to serve would answer your question?"

Tristan stared at him, blank faced.

"Your, Highness." Nestor chose his words carefully, enunciating. "Elbereth asked it of me, and while I was not bound to complete her word upon her death, my oaths to the family and to our worlds were not mere prattle." He was formal, almost reverent. "I _chose_ to be a member of the Morodin Honor guard, to serve and protect, but I am also a selfish being."

The former royal raised an eyebrow in surprise, his elbows now crossed with rapt attention.

"I read Elbereth's letter and knew that I could not betray her trust. I watched Bran torment that family, I saw what he did to Illian and his twin sister; what he did to your sister, but while I promised to go with you on your search for vengeance, I calculated and schemed for my own justice."

"They were my worlds too. Iker Rafagr had betrayed us, he had manipulated me too. We were seduced and played for fools." For the first time Tristan heard anger in Nestor's voice.

"Then you had your accident, and how could I walk away from you on your death bed? How could I explain to my conscience if I had left you stewing in your anger and despair?

Sir, you forget that I knew you before all of this, before when you and Elbereth were courting in secret. I knew that you both had the power and the strength to lead our worlds to a better place. I knew...that if I stayed with you, kept you on the right path that that man would return." He tilted his head sagely, "He has, you know, returned—wiser and stronger. You have grown, and I know that your people would be proud, as I am."

Tristan ducked his head in acknowledgement and thanks. Then he looked Nestor straight in the eye. "You refer to my wife as Elbereth. You always have, but I have been 'Doctor,' and on occasion 'sir' or 'Your Highness.' The few times you have slipped, it was when you were playing the role of my friend rather than that of my bodyguard and protector." He grinned amused, "And those moments were normally when you were impassioned or had your guard down."

This time, Nestor did not reply. He didn't really have an answer, and was saved as the door behind them slid open and a 2-1B trotted out. "Doctor Romani, if you please follow me. We are ready to begin."

Nestor laughed as Tristan broke into a run down the hall.

Later, as they stared at the tiny baby bundled up in a pink swatch of fabric her tiny nose wrinkled in sleep, and a wisp of black hair peeking out from the cap, Nestor fell in love for the fourth time in his life.

Tristan rocked her in his arms, his voice revealing the awe, he murmured "May I present, your god-daughter, Elbereth Almeretta Romani."

Stunned, Nestor's eyes moistened and he turned his head away from the angel before him to face Keladry where she smiled tiredly, propped against some of the pillows. Syla, who was standing next to him slipped her hand into his and squeezed.

The new mother waved her hand at him, "It was his idea."

Nestor shook his head, "But the name was yours." His smile was filled with appreciation, and reached his eyes, lines of joy spreading out like a starburst from the edge.

Kel merely sighed contently, refusing to give up her secret. Instead Tristan spoke up, "Being a God-father comes with certain stipulations."

Kel's eyes opened, and she added, "Rather, one stipulation."

Tristan looked at her, amused. "One."

Nestor's eyes narrowed, "Go on."

"From now on, my name is Tristan. Not—doctor, not your highness, but Tristan." The grey eyes were stern, but sparkling with an inner light and confidence that had seemed to have been destroyed with the destruction of the palace on Valdet.

_"Nestor, I am no longer the ruler of any planet, at least as far as the citizenry is concerned. So it's either Doctor, or just Tristan--do I make myself clear?_ Those words, so similar to the ones spoken had been in anger, having just found out about Iker's survival. Then Nestor had remained duty bound and chosen Doctor...now...

He leaned over and kissed the new baby on the head before bringing himself to his full height. "Consider your offer accepted...Tristan."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Stars above, those were happy almost peaceful times. Cocooned from the fighting, but still seeing the influx of refugee's pouring in and the dead mourned we were confident in life, that we could not have come this far to see it all destroyed. _

_Having struggled through personal sorrow, it was time once again to make decisions based on new responsibilities, new dreams. Our catalyst was the collapse of the holonet after Ebaq 9. Repercussions for the war were enormous, but in our microexistance, it was no longer possible to send or receive information from Tristan's home planet. _

_Dually concerned about their isolation, and Eli's safety we made one of the hardest decisions of our lives. _

_It was time for Tristan to go home._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

The sobs of a baby broke through the hanger bay where the _Selanore_ was docked calling attention to the gathering of well wishers. Turning away from some friends Tristan took the few quick steps to carrier where Eli had been sleeping mere moments before. "Good morning," he cooed crumpling his face in an attempt to make her smile. Simmering down to a whimper the Elbereth's face smoothened out before she slammed her small fist into her mouth. Lifting the girl into his arms, Tristan moved back to the group he had just left rubbing his hand over the baby's back in a soft soothing motion.

Dr. Tan eyed him his scales rippling. "What route are you taking?"

Tristan shrugged, "Not sure. For most of the trip we'll be in the hold of the transport ship. They're trying to get to Thyferra to replenish on bacta. From there...we hope things will be smooth, based on the success at Ebaq 9 the fight seems to be in a holding pattern."

"That's why we decided it was the best time to leave." Keladry appeared at his side, gently pulling their daughter from his arms cradling her small body. Her eyes never left Elbereth's face. _I'm going to miss you..._ She sniffled, and looked up with glistening eyes.

On her right was Iella Wessiri Antilles who, since their escape from Coruscant, had become an acquaintance of sorts. Her blonde hair had been braided back, serious and determined. She waved her datapad, "I can't promise you much, with the holonet down, but at the very least we'll know that they made it as far as Thyferra."

Tristan nodded, "Yes, and hopefully there will be something we can do to help the war effort...they need to be warned before it's too late." He glanced over at his wristchrono and then at his wife, who had returned her gaze to their child. It was going to be hard, leaving her. He squeezed her forearm lightly, before glancing at the ship. "We should go."

Keladry nodded and watched as Tristan said goodbye to their friends, and then carrying Elbereth in one arm, grabbed the baby bag that was by the ramp making her way to the onto the ship. Syla and Natir followed her up the ramp.

"You all right?" Natir whispered.

Keladry shrugged, "Yes and No, I'm going to miss them both, but we both accepted that this was the best way to keep her safe." She looked at her sleeping child before continuing. "We're at war Natir, I couldn't abandon the New Republic. I couldn't shirk my duty while keeping her safe at the same time."

"We all have had to make choices." Syla gently pushed a curl out of Eli's face. "They'll be safe."

Kel nodded, "I know they will be..." She sighed, and then continued to one of the sleeping berths that had been converted into a baby room. Gently she laid her daughter on her stomach on the bed placing pillows around to prevent her from rolling off. "I'm going to go say goodbye." Turning around she made her way back to the foot of the _Selanore_ noting the now clear hanger bay. She paused at the top, and watched the slightly strained conversation occurring between Nestor and Tristan.

Spotting her Tristan tilted his head, and placed a comforting hand on Nestor's arm before clasping him in a quick hug. Moving closer she heard his final words,

"The best thing you can do for me, is make sure she is safe. I'll have a full group of escort pilots protecting the pilots, and after that I'll have my copilot."

Nestor snorted, "Somehow that's not reassuring Tristan. Your daughter is not quite at the point of shooting one of the lasers."

Tristan laughed, "I know. A former New Republic Observer, Halden Onith contacted me. He said that he had some information to bear and that if possible, he would be willing to accompany me to Valdet. He's meeting me on the transport."

Nestor glanced at the dark haired woman approaching them, "I bet that makes you feel better."

Kel nodded, "Much."

Nestor's eyes flickered between the couple and turned to enter the ship. "I'm going to go say goodbye to my goddaughter. " He looked at his friend, "May the Force be with You Tristan."

Keladry watched his retreating form, suddenly finding herself in a firm embrace. Tristan's lips were upon hers—tasting, caressing, imprinting his sense of love for an eternity in one kiss. When they finally pulled away, Keladry caught her breath, aware of her flushed cheeks and tear filled eyes.

"I love you." He smiled, a look that never ceased to thrill her.

"I love you too." She gave him a tentative grin back.

Tristan leaned in and kissed her again, this time softly before straightening and pulling out a datacard. "I had a short conversation with Onith. He told me, in more detail, what happened after I left Valdet."

For a moment his wife could see his royal bearing, his pride. "Oh?"

He nodded, "I wanted to speak to Mara Jade Skywalker before I left, but found that she was unavailable. So I wrote this..." Tristan handed the card to Keladry. "When you get the chance, tell her...thank you." He shrugged, "When you read it, I think it'll make much more sense."

Ignoring the sudden buzz of her commlink, she glanced at Tristan chagrined. "You should go."

The final farewells were hard, but none so much as Keladry's final glance at her daughter, still sleeping peacefully. "Dear heart, I'll see you soon when the galaxy is safe once again." She latched her finger into the tiny palm her heart lurching with a gentle tug as Elbereth fingers wrapped around it. "Momma has to stay here and help her friends—I'll see you soon...take care of your father for me." A sob caught in her throat and she wrenched her finger away, wiped her tears then stumbled past the cockpit and off the _Selanore_where Natir, Syla and Nestor were waiting.

Wrapping her in his arms, Nestor's looked up to where Tristan sat in the cockpit, aware of his anguished gaze. _Blast it if this war doesn't end soon. So many deserve happiness. _Lifting his right hand from her back he waved, moving the group away from the ship.

Just as the ship slipped out of its berth, Keladry lifted her head. _Be safe, and may we meet again when the stars still with crystal arms leading the way. _

**End Post 11**

**Credit:**

In the first half, the atmosphere and the conversation between the Phindian and the Senators is a POV change from Luke and Mara who are waiting for Jacen's shuttle to arrive to Keladry and Tristan... (the original is in Destiny's Way)

Also all that turning point business is also from Destiny's Way b/c Luke says it twice when he realizes that Jacen is alive and I thought it was an interesting theme to keep going in the part of the story that mirrored that time period.

The second half--the italicized portion regarding Tenel Ka is from Destiny's Way as well. The comment regarding Tenel Ka's emotional depth is...from either Star By Star or Dark Journey (I'm pretty sure its Dark Journey but i'm not near by books right now)...

The rest of the post is all mine...

**Just a post and the epilogue to go...**


	17. Post 12

**A/n: kez, thanks for the review again. I know, I can't believe it's over. All three parts of this story started my freshman year of undergrad, and now five years later, I'm almost done with my first year of graduate school...Yikes! Time flies! **

**FYI for others: In order to understand some references below I would like to direct your attention to a path down memory lane. Check out Mara's vision in Post 10 of The Changing of the Guard, and her vision to go to Valdet/Danshitie in Post 1 of The Coming Challenge. **

**I'll put up the Epilogue tomorrow, 4/17 along with the titles of songs that inspired certain sections of this story. **

**Oh yeah: Timing: During and after the final battle for the galaxy in _The Unifying Force_**

**Post 12**

_The galaxy spins and time whirls by..._

_One last battle, one last fight..._

_To die now would be a crime, and fate...our destiny would not allow it. The spirit of the Galactic Federation of the Free Alliances likened to a sapling in the wind. Its newborn branches sensing the roaring wind and the deadly blows that rushed like a river to sweep it away. But with skill and flexibility it bent easily and all the poison of the Yuuzhan Vong whipped through pores remaking the galaxy. _

_The spirals still turned and time still ticked by and we fought for our souls, our lives, and our hearts. _

_This is not the end. _

_Just a closing period to one chapter in preparation for another, and we march on bracing ourselves against other winds that may come our way. _

_We will bend...and twist, and turn...but we will never break. _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Valdet**

_Sing me a song _

_Tilting and whispering_

_Reminding me of our home_

_Sing me a song_

_Tilting and whispering_

_Beckoning from where we roam_

_Yearning I reach..._

_Yearning I ache..._

_For memories of happier days..._

_I never hoped to return..._

_Yearning I could not stay...away..._

_Sing me a song_

_Tilting and whispering_

_Leading from where I roam_

_Sing me a song_

_Tilting and whispering_

_My heart beats again, bringing me home. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A stark difference from the ruins of the past, the stately, yet simple villa sent a shiver down Tristan's spine. In the growing dawn of the morning he was quiet, examining the replica cornice pieces of his childhood etched with images of the ancestors on the leading edge of the north portico. He recalled a time when he and his brothers would run along the side and his father would point up at the faces and chastise "the ancestors are watching. Quiet steps are the mark of a leader."

His father. How long had it been since had paid homage to their memories. How long it had been since he had truly felt complete. Basking in reminiscence, Tristan's minds eye followed the little boys as they romped around the yard and through the brush to the corner stone fence.

Along the edge of the western wall a trail of ivy grew, purple blossoms on the cusp of flowering, with yellow stems in the center peaking out with impatience. _Impatience_, the basic translation of the flowers name—Lorysina had grown even before the old house had been destroyed. Remembering, Tristan's chest tightened, and he used the back of his hand to wipe away some of the gathering moisture.

"They did a good job."

He turned to his companion, Isabelita and flashed a quick smile. "They did, I can hear our laughter, innocent yet aware of the tumult surrounding our lives." Feeling slightly melancholy he changed the subject. "Was there any money left?"

Isabelita glanced to where her husband watched the two children—Alden now in his sixth year peered at some bugs on the walk, while young Elbereth clapped her hands to a song only she could hear. "Some, and after the senate finished the paperwork—you will have complete control of the family finances again."

Tristan shrugged, gesturing for her to walk with him as he made his way around the house to where it faced the river. "That is not important. I just hope they heeded my warning, that the proposal by the new Galactic Federation of Free Alliances should be considered."

Isa, now a Citizen Representative in her own right, responded "We did, we are. We move slow Tristan, but I think joining the wider galaxy is a step that some are willing to take. "

"Some?"

She hesitated, "Naturally some are still wary of your reappearance. "

He was quiet, searching for that familiar weight of responsibility and expectation, finding it notably absent. Like a leaf during the fall dropping, he floated freely on a cadence of air, though in reality, of course, he was firmly on the ground. Brushing some lint from the light gray tunic he used his other hand to gesture at the home before them. "They needn't worry. Elbereth and I strove for order and peace in a time of madness. Just because it was not reached in the way we envisioned, does not mean that I do not welcome it.

Isa..." He trailed off, realizing that they had come to a stop. They were standing behind the house on a rise overlooking the River Styxlin., whose dark waters lapped against the shore, just meters below them. Unbidden, his eyes traced the lazy curves winding their way past the old docks and the dredger before dipping and enmeshing itself with the azure of the horizon. Just beyond that...

"Tristan?" She took in his gray eyes, his suddenly still features. She tilted her head, appraisingly and prodded-- "Yes?"

Tristan started, and continued—in a tone that betrayed that he was speaking more to himself than to his friend's daughter. "I think that this will be our future. A new hospital to replace the one that was destroyed when the palace fell, and Keladry, Eli and I shall be content. "Abruptly he faced her and picked up both her hands.

"My family served the people, and serve it I shall. There are times when old traditions become merely tradition—and remain in the rainbow of nostalgia where they remain evergreen. My family was meant to lead the people, but maybe it is time that we changed the manner of the leading. It does not matter how I serve, but that I serve."

Isabelita pulled her hands from his and leaned up to kiss his cheek lightly. "Bravo, my friend. Bravo. E...would have been proud."

For a moment she thought he was going to cry, as Tristan's eyes drew softly closed. He was floating again, feeling the happiness and the rightness again. The light whoosh of a quick inhalation of air brought him back to terrafirma. He had turned back towards the shore, facing the horizon, and his eyes never left the vanishing point, he whispered, "Isa, do you think that on the way back that we could..."

"Your highness..." She put her hand, shaking slightly, onto his shoulder. "...Tristan..." Iralian and she had been wondering when he would be ready, and had hoped that he would understand their actions. "Of course we can."

xxx

They stood back where Nestor Alluvia had stood, on that fateful night almost six years earlier. The erosion of the river beds had yet to touch the upper limits of the rise, and with some careful and quiet preservation by the Faiences the site had been preserved—for this moment. Alden, sensing the seriousness of the moment held fast to his father's hand, trying to see what his mum and poppa found so fascinating.

Isabelita watched Tristan's approach, knowing how she had felt each time she had snuck over to clean away weeds, to place the yellow Zinalia blooms. They had been together for almost a decade—Elbereth almost five years older--had started out their relationship playing the big sister, but near the end of her life, they were the best of friends, intuitively swearing that that would never change. The night after Elbereth had met Tristan, Isa had been the one to receive a whispered call of confusion, while she had received one of joy upon their engagement after the revolution.

But Elbereth had not been a perfect woman. Determined to keep herself together, to uphold the image of strength, she had ignored help, withdrawing from those who loved her. During her last lucid days, she had avoided all of her friend's comm's, retreating further into sublimity. Isa understood now, having spent her own grief so long ago. As dusk approached Elbereth had withdrawn from all those who loved her so that she could focus her energies on the one who mattered the most.

Tristan.

Isabelita would not have been human if she didn't feel a smidgen of jealousy, but as she watched Tristan carry his young daughter, Elbereth's namesake, to the cleared field, she knew...it had been the right choice.

An image of time past, she saw him stand, silent, straight backed, the posture of a man who had left this site hating the world and himself, full of selfish virtue and bitterness so profound it had almost destroyed him.

Sometimes, when the world is falling apart around you, and the choices for destruction seem endless one must let go of selfish desires and focus on where a difference can truly be made.

Elbereth understood her husband, and had helped him find his path. Helped him find happiness amidst her death, and the pain of the galaxy.

xxx

As Isabelita and Iralian watched him with guarded spirits, Tristan was aware of how much things had changed. Someone had kept the clearing full of blooming Lorysina and Lidalia, and in the place of the short wooden spike Nestor had driven to mark the grave, was a piece of purple granite. Iridescent and flecked with shades of gray the stone reminded Tristan of the passion and decency that defined his first wife. Shifting Eli to his other arm, he squatted to his haunches reading the inscription.

Din'sal Liadia

_Din'sal's heir_

Tristan Se La graminda ashiela

_Keeper of Tristan's love_

Menila Valdet cre' Danshitie

Le aur Se'la, S'ela

_Mother of unified Valdet and Danshitie_

_She kept us safe, protected._

Are aeshielan, Le aeshielan, Sona denathia Le Brenen

_Our beloved, his beloved, sleep with peace in eternity. _

Tristan solemnly gazed at the lettering, feeling the cool breeze off the river creating goose bumps along the back of his neck. He could almost feel Elbereth's presence, and instinctively straightened, mimicking the body language of the man who had buried his wife here over five years ago. Swirling around him the breeze pulled petals off the ground whirling around him, transporting him back through time.

His memories tumbled to the surface and with peace he thought of his quest to find Anian, and watching her body tumble to the ground when Bran tried to kill Elbereth in a fit of rage. He saw Illian, his other brother-in-law forever encapsulated in youth grasping her hand before they both succumbed to injuries.

Even in death, they loved. Fiercely.

He saw his home in shambles, Elbereth drifting into her own death. His calloused hands swollen and tender after placing her body into her eternal resting place.

And his anger... His anger that had been so precious so desired. So consuming.

He was no longer that man—no longer the Tristan Romani who would put tradition above reality—as he had so long ago when he had placed his sister in danger. No longer the Tristan Romani who had screamed for blood, ready to let go of principles that had been ingrained in his soul since birth.

Honor. Respect. Love for Life.

He had let fear take over and had found himself looking in countless mirrors unable to see his own face, to feel any sense of self.

On his shoulder, his little girl gurgled, her tiny nose wrinkling in consternation at the lack of attention, breaking Tristan's reverie. She giggled watching the swirling petals, reaching above to capture the flying colors of purple and gold.

He straightened the blanket that covered her, kissing her on the forehead. "Oh baby girl." Cradling Eli, he spoke to the swirling wind.

"Love, Elbereth, here is our dream. Your dream. Her mother is all that you hoped for me, and fills a part of my heart that I never thought could feel real again. You saved my life, and taught me to see myself again. This is my daughter with Keladry. This is Eli, your namesake.

"Thank you for your courage, and your guiding spirit. Thank you for forcing me to see past the sorrow and to grasp the light that Keladry offered. I know who I am now. I understand. Floundering for my sense of self, my identity I let go of what was truly important. I tried to let go of life.

Tristan grinned at his daughter, who blinked before smiling back. "I realize that while I may have let it go, life never left my side. It walked with me from my darkest moments to my brightest dawns and made me believe in myself again.

I have stood at the crossroads between the blinding light and the suffocating darkness. Between Life and Death...I wanted you to know.." His voice broke, and then resumed, stronger than before. "I wanted you to know. That I chose life."

"Da-Da!" Eli raised her arms, pushing up into a sitting position.

He looked at her, brush kissed her forehead. "I choose life."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Coruscant**

_Shhhh_

_Cough. Cough._

_Shhhhh_

_Cough. Cough._

_Shhhh_

Pulsating. He could feel his heart pulsating. Radiating through his fingertips, beating against the directional controls of his ship. They were still clenched around the rudder in desperation. He could make it. He could see the end in sight.

_Shhhhh_

A sharp pain—staggering breaths—not enough oxygen. He swiped a hand across his brow, swiping at the sweat...trickling down the rim of his nose and face and down his neck. Through the blackening vision, edges of his perspective fading into the onyx bleakness of space he saw the hold of the Star Destroyer _Right to Rule_ and shuddered involuntarily.

He reached for the controls again, and his hand slipped. How had they become wet? Sparing a glance he looked down...great now he was seeing red.

Red. Blood. Red.

Tentatively he touched his forehead again and looked at the finger.

It wasn't sweat pouring down his face...it was blood.

His blood.

From somewhere far away he heard his name.

Hoarsely he called out..."Yes? Calling me?"

"...tractor beam."

He snorted involuntarily. His name wasn't tractor beam.

"A little closer, Mr. Alluvia. We'll have you in the tractor beam. Then you can relax."

Oh. Ok.

"Mr. Alluvia?"

_Shhhhhhh_.

_Cough. Cough. Cough._

Everything hurt. So. Much.

The ship shuddered, and he realized that the _Right to Rule _had him in its grasp.

He let go of the controls...and the pulsation grew.

No air. Noair. Noair noair noair noair...

"Mr. Alluvia?"

"Syla...i...sorr—" A whimper, exhale.

Silence.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

**Earlier that day...**

Screeching metal filled Nestor's ears as he wove between the burning fighters. He could see the _Right to Rule_ through the viewport and the distant image of the living planet just beyond on the horizon.

The _Selanore_ was on not going to last much longer. Ducking, he juked around a hulk of burning coralskippers absently listening to the chatter on the radio. The battle for Coruscant had just begun, but he could see the destruction surrounding them. Below him the curve of Coruscant confronted him and he immediately turned the transport flipping it over and around.

"Nestor! A warning next time!" One of his gunners, yelled through the mike.

Despite the situation, Nestor grinned. They had launched from Muscave, and were now deep into the fracas between the Vong and the Alliance above the former galactic capital. He blinked back sweat and listened as three of Twin Suns' pilots disappeared in a cloud of debris. The fighters were escorting transports filled with resistance fighters and commandos to the surface, hoping to entice the Yuuzhan Vong heretics into rebellion. Nestor and the _Selanore _was one of many ships shooting errant corralskippers away from the smaller fighters giving them and the transports freedom of movement to duck into openings in the dovin basal line.

Watching them land, Nestor wheeled his ship around and tapped the comm for orders. "_Selanore _reporting."

The voice coming from the fleet of Star Destroyers to which he had been assigned, replied quickly, "Follow the rest of the fighters down to the surface, do what damage you can to pre-assigned targets." A beep on the console alerted Nestor to his course.

"Did you guys hear that? I'm going down long and hard. Make sure you're strapped in."

Nestor lost track of time, and they pounded target after target, shooting grutchins off of transports, and then accompanying other fighters against ground forces. In the murky din he could see the changes inherent in the new Vong held Coruscant. This wasn't the Coruscant that he had lived on for two years, rather it was a hellish world filled with fire and twisted metal overgrown by some of the organic and living world shaping that dominated anything the Yuuzhan Vong touched. Absently listening to the wide range battle frequency, he was aware of the death and the continuing fight. In the midst of a battle, flying became almost an instinctual practice.

For a moment between strafing runs, Nestor Alluvia almost laughed aloud at the reflection. He had been trained in ground fighting and security on Danshitie, pulling a brief stint in the planets low-budget planetary navy. He was constantly examining ground force deployments against the Vong, trying to apply his education to the new tactics furiously developed throughout the war. Even now, flying above the battle his subconscious tried to find a familiar pattern to the fight on the planetary surface.

Mindlessly he switched on and off the various manual weapons controls, working in sync with his two gunners. Somehow, in the last five years he had changed his forte. He found himself just as comfortable in the _Selanore_ then standing in a carrier on the ground, a part of larger troop movements.

It was a sobering thought. Somewhere, in the midst of the life of protecting Tristan, Nestor had changed. Ironically, the realization came as he was entrenched in the fight for the galaxy's survival, his survival. To some extent the razor sharp edge between life and death had shifted his priorities and beliefs. Perhaps it was a reflection of a change long past, but it became clear that his values had taken on a different shade of meaning.

Suddenly, proximity alarms blared and Nestor looked at the scopes baffled.

"Boss, what's going on down there?" It was the second gunner, Tilantin

"I don't know, there's nothing on the scopes—what do you guys see?"

"Nothing on my side."

Something slammed against the back of the ship, and the lights dimmed in the cockpit before resuming normal illumination.

Nestor's heart jumped. "I'm pulling up." Nestor slapped the commlink and reported in..."Something's wrong, we're going to try and make it back home."

"Acknowledged."

Nestor whispered to the ship, "Come on...Come on..."

A loud thud on the side of the ship, lurched Nestor to the side, slamming his head against the forward bulkhead. For a moment he saw only stars...before becoming aware of a trail of curses emitting from his own mouth.

"Shavit!" _Sithspit..what was that!_ Automatically, he programmed a course correction, setting the automatic safety precautions in motion.

"Tilantin...Dofras you there?" Nestor turned off the wailing alarms, engaging the fire suppression systems. His head was pounding.

"Dofras here."

Silence. "Tilantin?"

"Uh Boss, Tilantin's gone."

_Shavit._ _We must have gotten hit by a grutchin or a falling piece of debris. _He checked to make sure that the hatch by that gunwell was sealed.

"Boss, do you hear the hissing?" The statement was followed by a sudden clash and a gasping sound.

Nestor's eyes glazed over for a moment and then he blinked. They were still leaking air.

"Sithspit. Dofras, keep us as clear as you can, we going to have to land on that Star Destroyer."

Silence.

"Dofras?" More Silence. He struggled to remain facing the Star Destroyer his wrists shaking under the pressure of entropy. He looked at the scopes again...at least they hadn't been exposed to vacuum, otherwise he would already be dead...his thoughts trailed off...

_What is going on! _Before he could say another word his head exploded in pain.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

On the bridge of the Star Destroyer _Right to Rule_ Admiral Pellaeon glanced at the display in front of him. "Tactical,"

"Admiral,"

"What's going on with the ship coming out of six-two-six?"

"Not sure, Transponder ID's as the _Selanore,_ a mid –size freighter, independent Alliance vessel. I'm patching through to the comm, one minute sir."

The Imperial Admiral turned back to directing the battle. Fifteen minutes later, he glanced back at the display, frowning. "Communications, six-two-six?"

"The Captain is Nestor Alluvia, he's not sure what's wrong—just that they got hit during a strafing run on planet. The readouts I'm getting indicate a loss of air and that both gunners are crippled. "

"Take care of it. Carry on."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Communications was, at present, Lieutenant Zorn formally of Sluis Van. He toggled a few keys and watched the course of the damaged freighter on his scopes.

"Mr.Alluvia, we're attempting to pull you in through a tractor beam."

His head set received a burst of static, and Zorn adjusted the volume hearing a rasping as the Captain struggled to breathe.

He repeated himself. "A little closer, Mr. Alluvia. We'll have you in the tractor beam. Then you can relax."

Across the way, the Ensign in charge of tractor beam emplacement glanced over nervously. "That ship got hit pretty bad."

Zorn glanced at his forward display and blinked. From the outside it was clear that the _Selanore_ had been in a collision that had ripped the portside gun-well from its moorings. The once pristine ship had scorch marks along the side, and gaping holes where a grutchin had made it through the outer hull. The automatics must have been able to shut down the compartment to space. Glancing down at the coordinates, he blinked, the ship was listing away from the targeted beam. "Mr. Alluvia."

"Lieutenant we have a lock."

"Mr. Alluvia."

There was a cough on the comm, weak but a distinguishable life sigh. It was followed by a groan of pain.

"Syla...I...sorr—"

Static. Concerned, Zorn glanced up at the ensign in front of him. "Pull them in quickly, make sure medical is notified of the situation." It was now out of his hands. He flipped channels and pulled up the wide angle on the scopes—back to the battle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Keladry watched as Syla paced along the perimeter of the docking bay on the _Ralroost_ Word had trickled down days ago of the Supreme Commander's death and the role of Jaina and Jacen Solo had already become the talk of legend. Details were scarce, but like the final battle over Endor so long ago, the myth worked wonders on morale.

Before the start of the battle the three of them had said goodbye, Nestor assigned to aid in the battle of Coruscant, the two women stationed with a medical team on the _Ralroost_. Each was confident of survival, but in a time of chaos, one blaster bolt can change confidence to death.

Keladry, despite not knowing if Eli and Tirstan had made it to Valdet, had prepared her own message, hoping above all that it would never be seen.

Now, surveying her friend's path in front of her, her chest tightened. She had pegged Syla and her dying with the _Ralroost_, or even just her in a freak accident, but never Nestor. Nestor...was their rock.

She shifted her gaze to the incoming transport, just arriving from the _Right to Rule_. Her hand involuntarily went to her mouth as she recognized the ship that was being towed in right behind it.

_Selanore_.

Or rather, what was left of the _Selanore._ A sob escaped her lips, before she could suppress the sound, Syla pivoted on her heals—her big eyes growing wider with fear. Together their gaze traced every line every indentation in the vehicle that had carried the four friends—no family—throughout the war. From both Keladry and Syla's vantage point, the ship was on its last legs, and while they had confidence that repairs could have been cobbled together, without Nestor...Kel trampled that thought before it could go further.

Instead she jogged quickly to where the lithe woman stood frozen in shock. Engulfing her in her arms, she whispered. "Hold on my friend, everything will be alright. Wait until we see him, then we can decide for ourselves about the prognosis."

Their part in the battle had been aboard the _Ralroost_ during the feint by Nas Choka above Muscave. Every single person knew they were fighting for more than their lives. This battle had _felt_ different.

There was the same grimness—fighters ready to die for the galaxy.

There was the same unsettled knot of fear, the one that suggested hours, minutes, seconds left to live.

There was the same...unknowing rhythm of action. Inserting IV's, stabilizing patients, dressing wounds, and slowly pulling blankets over those they had been unable to save. All of these actions, while the mind was conscious of the bleeding, the vaporized, the floating remains of the dead in the space surrounding the ship.

In the midst of this Keladry and Syla fought their own battles trying not to hope for fear of undeniable pain of the unthinkable. Word had trickled in hours ago, lists of schematics of those who had been injured, and unaccounted for above Coruscant and Zonama Sekot.

Now they watched. Silently, Keladry steadfastly trying to be brave—and Syla, holding her own, unwilling to accept the reports and diagnosis from the _Right to Rule's_ medical personnel. The transport settled in, groaning under weight and overuse.

Depressurizing the ship released coolant in billows of white smoke, and the creaking of the ramp could be heard over the steady rumblings of a post-battle inventory. Eventually, stretcher after stretcher of Alliance casualties descended, and Keladry and Syla directed the flow.

That one to recovery, the one after to the morgue.

Another for surgery.

They saved the most fragile for last, the ones that held on for some irrefutable reason, despite injuries leading to certain expiration. One of the medics ran down the ramp to meet them, monotonously rattling off the litany of care instructions—Keladry listened, but could not allow herself to feel.

Finally, as they pushed him down the ramp it was all Keladry could do to keep Syla from collapsing.

Nestor was prone, lying deathly still on the hoverstretcher, the only signs of life through a portable heart monitor and the rise and fall of his chest. His face was ashen, his eyes closed—a sterile cast covered his right leg. A large gash on his head was covered by a large bacta patch, revealed by a section of his exposed scalp.

It looked bad. Keladry knew patients with head injury's who awoke after blood loss and coma, only to be in a permanent vegetative state. She knew that it was only a matter of time before Nestor Alluvia's body decided for itself whether to fight or let go...

_By the Force you will fight. We have not come this far to let you die. _Kealdry pulled Syla up, straightening her own shoulders with determination. The man in front of her had left his home and his family for duty—he had sacrificed his own safety and happiness to follow one man across the galaxy. Now, when it was time for him to live for himself, to live beyond his role as Tristan's protector, the medics were telling his loved ones that he was going to die? It was ludicrous, and Keladry had enough training and background to hope for a miracle, a miracle that would be accomplished with a little bit of skill and fire. _It is time I repaid some debts._ _Nestor, it's my turn to help you. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_I will give you one thing. Nestor Alluvia is a fighter. Despite what our eyes saw, despite what our hearts told us, he made an almost full recovery. The day he was discharged from the medward, Syla and I marched ourselves down to the where the Rogue's had hidden a stash of liquor and took a celebratory drink. _

_Until that day, we were still fighting the war. _

_All three of us realized just how lucky Nestor had been. If he had blacked out just before the tractor beam achieved its lock— we would have stood watch at his funeral. Recuperation was long, but not endless...the horizon of possibilities lay before us... and now, it was only a matter of time before we returned to the skies. _

_Slowly the galaxy turned towards peace, and somehow I managed to find out if Nom Anor's supposed death was fact...or myth. His death brought me a sense of satisfaction, and one more reason to reunite with my family on Valdet. . _

_With the holonet still being repaired, I knew that there were still uncertainties—but I also knew I was strong enough to face them, strong enough to face the future with my head held high. I had faced the coming challenge—and survived. _

_But before any of us could leave, I had a message, one long since overdue, to deliver. _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Zonama**** Sekot  
During the Aftermath of the Defeat of the Yuuzhan Vong.**

Keladry stood at the edge of the forest surveying the private family moment. Jedi Masters Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker sat with their son Ben in a moment of unabashed joy and peace. _Maybe I should return later..._ Hesitating she stood, indecisive.

In the center of the clearing Luke Skywalker, stood up, hoisting the young boy into his arms. Meeting her gaze, he tilted his head in greeting before gazing back down at his wife who remained seated. Kel glanced away as he kissed her head, speaking briefly and then walking in the direction of the shipping area.

Keladry observed Mara Jade Skywalker's wary approach. The stately Jedi frowned before asking, "Have we met before?"

The doctor couldn't help but smile, "Once, briefly before the war began. I doubt you would even remember meeting me." She could feel the weariness of the last few weeks hitting her and anxiously she rubbed her fingers across her forehead.

"Dr. Stanton?"

Keladry jerked in surprise, she would never have suspected or _expected_ Mara Jade Skywalker to remember her. She nodded, "Not Dr. Stanton anymore, I got married." She let out a nervous laugh before continuing, "Which is why I'm here. My husband wanted to thank you for something that you did before the war, so he told me, before we had to part ways that if I ever saw you to give you this." She reached into the pocket of her tunic and pulled out a datacard. "You and your family have done more for us then you probably even realize. We're glad to see that you're in good health, and happy." _Why are you acting so awkward?_ Perhaps it was the emotional impact of this meeting, before it had been her job—now it was personal.

The red haired woman accepted the data card and looked at the doctor curiously. "We did what we had to do for the galaxy…not only for ourselves but for our children."

Nodding again, Kel let slip an inch of wistfulness. "I know. I have a two year old daughter who I haven't seen in about a year. It's why my husband and I chose to separate. I was needed here, and he had other responsibilities where he could better serve the war effort, and guarantee her safety. Now with the death of Nom Anor, and the end of the war, there is closure, something that we needed desperately." She was rambling again, not fully explaining herself, but before she could be more clear the comm at her hip buzzed. A sigh escaped unbidden. "I have to get back, I'm only on Zonama Sekot because of some of the injured, but I'm due back on the frigate."

She began to move away, stopping when she heard Mara Jade call to her, "Yes?"

"What's your daughter's name?"

Her back to the Jedi Master, Keladry paused. A simple question, it begged a simple answer. There was no reason why a hero like Mara Jade Skywalker would remember a mission that happened over five years ago, long before the invasion. Somehow Keladry felt that she needed to explain the choice..."Names are important. You named your son for your husband's mentor--I for my husband's first wife; her grace and spirit are some things I want my daughter to strive for, in her own way. "

The woman before her raised her eyebrows with curiosity.

"Elbereth, her name is Elbereth."

Mara's forehead furrowed, as if drudging up long lost memories of a time long past. Then, just as suddenly, she met Keladry's gaze and took a hesitant step forward.

"Valdet...and Danshitie..." Mara shook her head amazed. "You're married to Tristan Romani."

The Jedi shook her head wonderingly, "I thought you were thanking me for our work during the war."

Keladry tilted her head in acknowledgement. "That, and again, I believe Tristan explains it, there--" she gestured toward the datacard before growing reflective.

"I know the war has just been won, but after five years of fighting and bloodshed, I have come to an important conclusion.

The actions we take, the choices we make, reflect across a wide spectrum. Each person stands upon a precipice, every act a stone waiting to be dropped in a pond of dropping stones. We know that the ripples begin at the core, at the most immediate, and consciously we see how they spread touching others, engulfing the future and remembrances of the past.

But each stone is unique. The grooves, the niches the erudite coloring, size, shape, polish--each imbibe a level of meaning beyond the physical realm.

Your deeds on Danshitie and Valdet saved two planets from a fiend who...ended up having a very clear method to his purported madness. Who in hindsight delivered a very personal threat to you and the beings of this galaxy, far beyond our two simple planets. The evil of Iker Rafagr--who you know as Nom Anor—the death of Tristan's first wife, they all had the power to destroy all that he fought to preserve."

_It has the power to destroy all that he shall fight to preserve. _Mara started, woman's voice, this woman's voice, no longer a stranger, rose unbidden to her mind. An echo from a vision long past. _Iker__ Rafagr was Nom Anor..._

Keladry continued, "You see? Nom Anor's actions on Valdet defined Tristan throughout the war, but your deeds saved him. The stability of his planets, the consequence of your decisions and your choices brought him a level of peace. Despite the anger, and need for revenge that he hid away from all of us..." She blinked, unsure of how much detail to go into, then threw caution to the wind. Quickly she recounted some of the events of the past five years, "I know that Jedi are not the only one's open to the Dark Side, and I saw him struggle with it every day when he thought that Nom Anor had perished above Rhommomool. With no being to inflict the anger upon, he let it become a seed of evil taking root in his soul. Finding that he was still alive brought our family to another cliff where our lives could have been changed forever."

She rushed out the next part, "He led us. He may not have known it, but he led us through this war. He never wavered in his belief that the Vong would be destroyed, his faith in our leaders was unsurpassed. Despite his fear that he would fail, that he lacked the strength to fight, he showed that his fear, his darkness did not define who he was. He was able to take our love and destroy the dark side within him, to recognize that sometimes we can only act within our bounds, within our purview of life. He relinquished his quest for Nom Anor's death, and began to live again."

Her pale hazel eyes glistened with unshed tears. "So while he will be relieved to hear that justice has finally been served..._I _would like to thank _you_...for all that you have ever done, and that however Nom Anor's death came to pass—your family's ripples will always be inextricably bound with mine."

Keladry smiled, "You will always be welcome on Valdet and Danshitie, in our home and in our hearts." Without another word, she tilted her head goodbye and made her way back through the forest.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_He will lead them._

Mara watched her retreating back, and then slipped to the ground inserting the card into her datapad.

_He will lead them. _

She stared at the words coalescing on the screen. Then Mara Jade Skywalker, and Tristan Romani met for the first time since his sister's funeral on Yavin IV.

The words were simple, unadorned with pity phrases or snippets of hero worship. Like his wife he sought to be grateful yet respectful; heartfelt yet gracious; contemplative yet certain.

_Master Jade Skywalker. _

_One life is all that we have, one life. You knew me when I struggled, and saw the repercussions of hesitation and insecurity. I always seemed to be beyond my body, watching my actions hurt those I loved, destroying all that they dreamed. When I sent that letter to the Jedi so long ago, asking for aid...I never dared to expect a peaceful resolution, I never dared to hope for a beacon amidst worlds of suffocation and darkness. One life can make all the difference. _

_We are linked in so many ways. The threads that bind the beings of this galaxy to one another spin a magnificent tapestry of shimmering starlight revealing the nascent importance of one human life to another. The living Force, perhaps. _

_I am leaving at a time when the future of this war is uncertain, but I know that the Jedi, and the citizens of the Galactic __Alliance_ _shall prevail._ _Nevertheless, in case my journey to my home is fateful, I wanted to bestow my own recognition of all that you have done. _

_To your health, for surviving the evils that Nom Anor sought to spread throughout the galaxy. (He was, in the end, also known as Iker Rafagr, Dr. Cree'Ar, Reef Niln.) _

_To your family, the Jedi and those who lead this weary war. _

_To your kindness of a young girl who, misguided, mistreated, and manipulated was able to find her way back. Anian smiles upon us even now. _

_To the light, which shall burn ever brightly as long we work together toward a brighter future._

_One life is all that we have to give—and there is time left to grasp it and mold it...there is time left to **live**_

_For that, I thank you. _

_Tristan Romani_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Shutting down the datapad, Luke handed it back to his wife. Hurtling through hyperspace toward an uncertain yet bountiful future there was much to be thankful for.

Mara leaned forward placing a light kiss upon her husband head, before bringing her knees to her chest. They remained that way, lost in their thoughts...

Breaking the silence, Luke grinned, tilting his head at the message light against the bulkhead. It was the message light for the short-beam holocomm. "You received rather interesting comm from Wes Janson."

Mara smirked cryptically. "He got my present."

"He said something about watching your back? Mara...what have you gotten us into?"

Mara shrugged her shoulders, laughing silently before she responded. "Oh...lets just say this is long overdue retribution for those modifications to the _Sabre_...the war got in the way, but I didn't forget."

With a mock look of shock on his face Luke gasped, "Jade, what did you do?"

Mara just smiled, "Let's see...with Inyri's help I broadcasted a message to the fleet with the obituary of one Lt. Kettch, requesting all messages of condolences to be sent care of Wes Janson at the new headquarters..."

Luke's eyes narrowed, "That doesn't sound so bad, except that his inbox will be full for the next few months."

"...I may have added a phrase or two about how in Kettch's honor Wes will buy everyone a round of Lomin Ale..."

"Mara!"

"...and I may have also arranged for his fighter to broadcast a 'requiem' for Kettch every time it starts up to the tune of the ever famous Lomin Ale ditty that Corran is so fond of..."

"No...!"

"...oh and then there's the facsimile Kettch doll that I left shredded in his cockpit."

"Please tell me there's not more..."

"...no...merely a message telling him to never mess with my ship again...or try and envelope my very devious husband in any more of his schemes...otherwise I may not be responsible for any further acts of retribution I may dole out—including and not limited to torture, accidental discharge of a proton torpedo, amputation, destruction of property..."

"I get it, I get it. " Luke let out a short laugh, stopping her recitation. He wiped the tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes, and then pulled her to her feet, embracing her.

Simultaneously, they glanced toward the room where their son slept, and Luke took both of her hands in his and smiled. Leaning in he kissed her softly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. _I love you, Skywalker. _

_I love you, Jade._

Nothing more needed to be said, it was time to live.

**End Post 12**

**Credit: All mine, though the events with Nestor are based on the battle in TUF, and the scene with Mara and Luke takes place on their way to Kashyyyk in TUF. **

**EPILOGUE TOMORROW!**


	18. Epilogue and Inspiration

**Epilogue **

A long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away...

A long time ago in a galaxy made up of stars, surrounded by planets, where at any given moment supernovas flare in vibrancy—living on as the charge of brilliance spreads through constellations...

Endless light, endless time...

In the galactic scheme of time...there is only eternity.

Take a step closer, see what else we can see...

Star systems, trade routes orbiting multiple suns with multiple moons dancing silently in gravities arm. Choreographed or spinning free they dance together with lives measured in billions of years.

Geographical location clumps them together and alliances create large super-nations. Trying to make sense out of nature's chaos and building merely a structure of artificiality. Organized yet, surreal.

In the last one hundred years, a thought on the galactic scale, The Old Republic fell, the Empire fell, the New Republic fell...

...but what does it mean?

In the galaxy proper, the core worlds, there was pain, yes—pain. Blood, red-indigo, death, tinged with terror and pungent aromas of dried sweat and black-nights without stars. A fathomless death of nothingness.

There was also light, magic joy and laughter driving away the sorrow, new coalitions, with stability coming together to fight invisible foes with might and determination. Standing for the people, another alliance, the Galactic Federation of the Free Alliances, someday it may fall too—but for now it is a fragile pillar of strength, idealistic in vision yet with clarity in purpose.

As history trembles, she also records. All seeing eyes taking in the nights, days, months years, decades and centuries.

Take one step closer...

In the outer rim, the fringes, away from the maddening scramble, untouched and unmarred by galactic politics...two planets.

One green from orbit embraces the rose hued eternally blushing neighbor—always hiding but never lonely. From orbit things are transient, peaceful...until the decent.

There was conflict here—conflict-a sanitized world in an ever cynical age.

There was death here—death of mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, pets, and strangers—one cannot forget the strangers. Yes, they died too.

Two families, two planets, with one heart, one soul joined in mutual hatred—the reason why, long since forgotten, never to be understood.

Take one step closer...can you smell the acrid atmosphere? Can you smell the vapor warmed by the golden heat of the suns rays?

Valdet rebuilds, but Danshitie is where it shall end.

Sentient life, non sentient life...these two planets tell a tale beyond labels of power and emulation. They tell the tale of all species, male or female, children, lovers, assassins. They tell the tale of a single blue Agnor roosting one evening watching as two beings found one another. Found Balance.

A girl, not yet a woman died here. A man, still bound and tied strictly to tradition found his heart...only to lose it upon reaching home. Others found respect and a place to belong, while some soared into the stars to achieve their dream.

Above all history records the words and thoughts and deeds and lives of _individuals_. They are the ones who can turn the tide, perhaps not winning the war, or becoming heroes, because war creates heroes, beyond individual identities--symbols. Rather individuals form society, not at an endless eternal speed, but rather taking every day, every hour, every minute and _every_ second and making the most of it, living—breathing and existing.

Ah...so the end, is not the end...but rather a new beginning.

**Danshitie**

It was a small gathering, enough guests to fill two long tables—basic crystal stemware, and drapes along looped poles the color of the former royal guards of Danshitie. Deep, honorable red, edged with the noble colors of the Morodin.

Tonight the survivors came to honor one of their own.

In the stillness, the sound of tapping on a glass caught everyone's attention. Some, by habit, stood and bowed, and the being at the end of the table waved the attention away. A hand grasped his, and he glanced at his wife and at his daughter before continuing.

"Some time ago, Nestor Alluvia grabbed me by the shoulders and demanded my attention. His words resonated, despite my often painful attempts to ignore them. They were words of wisdom, insisting that I look beyond the lenses that shaded my thoughts, past the despair and anger that drove my waking moments. Rather, they were words of a man with knowledge and love for our worlds so deep that even I cannot fathom its end.

In this world of uncertainty, we have two choices, we can choose to live, or choose to die. Death is a destructive force...impossible to conquer. "

Tristan hesitated before rushing forward. Avoiding Nestor's thoughtful expression and Syla's tear-filled eyes.

"But we're not here to talk about death, but life... Living is embracing all possibility and never letting the dark destroy options, and today marks possibility into fact. We are here to talk about Nestor and Syla whose love and commitment have brought them to this point which was long foreseen by their friends.

Yes Nestor, you were right.

It is more important that we survive.

In surviving we have gained wisdom.

In surviving we have gained joy.

In surviving we have gained love.

In surviving we have family, and those who see in the future a beacon of light so strong that no shadow can diminish it.

In surviving we take one step closer, determined to honor the dead, survive another changing of the guard, and yes to face the coming challenges head on."

Steadying his hand, Tristan raised the champagne flute high and turned to the newlyweds at the head of the table,

"To the coming challenges...may you meet them with continued strength and valiance. May you emerge victorious! Se'la aur S'ela.

To Nestor and Syla Alluvia."

A chorus of voices repeated him. "Se'la aur S'ela, Nestor and Syla."

Tristan slipped back into his seat and reached for little Eli, already asleep after a long day of play. After settling her in he, softly reached for Keladry's hand, bringing it to his lips.

She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "and so the journey ends?"

He nodded, "What began here and on Valdet as a struggle against evil and a fight for vengeance, ends with love. What more can I ask for? What more can I want?"

In the far distance the warble calls of the blue Agnor filled him with a sense of peace. He had survived, and with Kel, his daughter—family and friends by his side, his path was set, and his heart was strong.

The rest would take care of itself.

_It has been a long, hard road._

_I saw greed, violence, and death, along with the despair; but I also saw kindness, generosity and a myriad of riches in mind, body and soul. _

_I saw one man's selfishness, maliciousness and need for vengeance fuel a crusade that was not in his hands to fight, but he learnt to step back and improve those whose lives he could change, even at the expense of his own. _

_I saw him lead; I saw his soul. I saw myself lead, and found my own place, my own purpose. _

_It has been a long hard road...but journeys are meant to be taken, and the only lessons worth learning are on the longer and harder paths where you are presented with choices... _

_Remember, Love, and above all choose life. _

**The End**

**Whew it has been a long..(not so hard) road... **

**I started this trilogy in September/August 2000 when I entered undergrad at William and Mary...now five years later..the circle is now complete... **

**Thank you to those who have been reading. **

**And Kez who kindly commented, I appreciate it, I really did. I have not had much luck on these boards (if you see the comments on the prior story you'll know what I mean...) So I thank you...any criticisms/suggestions to make my writing better is welcome...**

**This is probably going to be the last long fic I write for a while, mostly b/c I have an orig. ficlet in my head begging to be written. And the next year with school is going to be very painful with comprehensive exams and my masters research seminar (aka thesis)...**

**That being said, look**** out for viggies since I'll probably need to satisfy the muse from time to time. And I appreciate bearing through the random moments where I urged Lurkers to delurk and speak..(yes I'm doing it again, if you Lurk ****NOW**** IS YOUR LAST CHANCE (ok not really but sometimes that works :)) **

**Tell me what you think in the comment page... THANK YOU to my beta's Yelsly (****TFN****'er**** who i think has succumbed to DRL, since I have not spoken to him in a while) Kagome (another SW buddy) and PregnantPadme (****TFN****'er****) who helped me in a pinch, -Trickster-(****TFN****'er**** who betaed _Changing of the Guard_ and Veregre (****TFN****'er**** who oh so long ago, and no longer frequents the boards betaed _To Honor the Dead_. I could not have done this without you.**

**It's been a pleasure writing for you! I'll be around, so it is not goodbye but a see ya later...**

**Jade51999**

**Inspiration: Songs that Inspired/helped me write certain portions of the story...**

**Prior to Post I**

_Angry Johnny_ by Poe

_Fly Away_ by Poe

Both songs are illustrative of Tristan and Keladry's feelings at this juncture. He dealing with frustration, hatred and anger, she with fear.

**Prior to Post IV**

_Dreams of Our Fathers_ by Dave Mathews Band

_The Dreaming Tree _by Dave Mathews Band

Burdens of Tristan's life, and the sins/fallacies of his ancestors before he came on Valdet/Danshitie.

**Prior to Post V**

_Could I be You _by Matchbox 20

_Finding Me_ by Vertical Horizon

Essentially how Tristan is feeling at this point, following Nestor's revelation.

**Prior to Post VI**

_Every breath you take_ by Sting (and the Police I think)

Stalker's p.o.v. I was tempted to put up the lyrics for Sweet Dreams, b/c the atmosphere of the song as sung by Marilyn Manson is just creepy...but...eh I decided these lyrics work better.

**Post ****VII**

_Fortress _by Sister Hazel

Keladry right before her breakdown after realizing that her mother was murdered.

**Post IX**

_Forever_ by Vertical Horizon

_Love Rescue Me_ by U2

_I will remember you_ by Sara Mclaughlin

And for the second half of Post 9

_Let Me In_ by REM

_I'll see it through_ by Texas

_High Speed Train_ by REM

_One Love _by Sister Hazel

_Angel Standing By _by Jewel

Various parts of Post 9 relating to Elbereth's letters etc. And Tristan's realization of his love for Keladry and the proposal.

**Post X**

_Amen_ by Jewel

Her vivid lyrics remind me of the thoughts flaring through Tristan's mind whe he was running through the forest.

**Post XI**

_When you Dream_ by Bare Naked Ladies

_Cry Freedom Cry_ by Dave Mathews Band

A beautiful song about a parent watching his son sleep...made me think of what was going through Kel's and Tristan's mind when Eli was born and they had to let her go.

DMB's song is related to Tristan's connection to his home, and want to go back and warn them about the events in the larger galaxy.

**Prior to the Epilogue and Perhaps the "Theme Song" for the Trilogy**

_Walk Unafraid_ by REM

Lyrics are based on the live version where Michael Stipe sings the chorus at the beginning in a beautiful aria(i think that's the appropriate description) form.. As per requirements, I've gotten rid of the full lyrics...but check them out online.

**Determined and defiant...Tristan is ready to face the world. **

**Thanks for reading **

**PC ****4/17/05**


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